Finding My Way Home
by MyImmortal329
Summary: What if Daryl had gone after Carol when he learned Rick banished her from the prison? Rated M for eventual sexual content. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from The Walking Dead

Author's Note: Takes place in Season 4. What if Daryl had gone out after Carol when he learned Rick had sent her away?

Finding My Way Home

Chapter 1

"Daryl! Get back here!" Rick's voice was thick with authority, but Daryl didn't give a shit. He stalked toward the gates, hollering at one of the new guys—he hadn't bothered to learn his name—to open the gate. "God damn it!"

With his crossbow slung over one shoulder and a pack filled with three days' worth of food and water, Daryl didn't turn back.

"Mr. Dixon?" the man at the gate asked, looking nervously back and forth between Rick and Daryl.

"Open the fuckin' gate," Daryl barked. "Right fuckin' now!"

"Don't do that, Mike," Rick warned from behind. "Daryl turned, his knuckles white as he gripped his knapsack. It was taking all the power in him not to haul off and break Rick's jaw. "Daryl, calm down."

"How the fuck you gonna tell me to calm down, when you sent Carol out there to die?"

"That's not what I did. You know that."

"You're a fuckin' coward," Daryl seethed, tossing his crossbow and knapsack into the dirt, turning to shoot Rick a look that told him to back up or get fucked up. "You walk around here like a fuckin' lunatic talking to ghosts and shit, and then you wanna say _Carol's_ a threat? That's bullshit, man. Fuckin' bullshit."

"She _killed_ Karen and David."

"Do I look like I give a shit right now? They were dyin' anyway. You know that." Daryl turned his head sharply to glare at the guy at the gate and then back at Rick. "Carol did what you didn't have the balls to." His eyes narrowed. "She thought she was doin' the right thing, and you sent her out there like the fuckin' coward sumbitch you are!"

"You walk out that gate and…"

"What, you gonna banish me, too? Good riddance, asshole!" By now, a crowd had gathered outside the cellblock. "I'll take my chances out on the road. Been doin' it my whole life. Like ridin' a bike." He turned back toward the gate and grabbed his things out of the dirt. He walked over to where his motorcycle was parked right next to the entrance, and he stared Mike down. "You gonna open that gate, or are you gonna be pissin' blood for a week?" Mike looked desperately at Rick, who angrily kicked the dirt. The young man scrambled to open the gate while Daryl revved up his ride. As soon as he had enough room to get out, he stepped on the gas and took off away from the prison, so blood-spitting mad that he didn't' care if he never saw it again.

Carol woke abruptly to the sound of a crow nearby. She blinked a few times, her vision a bit blurry. From the way the sun was hidden behind the thick tree line, she figured she'd been out for at least six hours.

She sat up, rubbing her aching neck and climbed out of the backseat. She opened the glove box and pulled out a bag of jerky and popped a couple of pieces in her mouth. The salt against her tongue made her thirsty. She had several bottles of water left, but she wanted to save it. She only took a few sips, just enough to wet her parched tongue.

The windows were fogged up, indicating that the temperature was starting to drop. After rummaging through a bag for a moment, she pulled a blue sweater on over her tank top and checked her mirrors. No sign of walkers. No sign of people. She was totally isolated.

If she was being honest, she didn't miss the prison. Yes, she missed the security of the walls and the friends she'd made, but at least out on the open road, she had control of her own fate. What she missed more than anything, however, was Daryl. She felt a tightening in her chest and her belly when she thought of him. He'd been her rock, helping her get through Sophia's disappearance and keeping hope alive for her when no hope was to be had. He'd pulled her out of that solitary cell and held her so close and carefully. She remembered the way his arms were steady and sure, but how his heart hammered mercilessly against his chest as he'd called her back to C block. She'd never forget that. His heart had given him away, but she never told him.

She pulled one of her books from her pack on the front seat and opened to the center. Pressed between pages 200 and 201 was something dry and flat, and it brought a smile to her face. Tears welled in her eyes, and she gently touched the crisp petals. She'd never forget the night he'd given it to her. He'd walked into Dale's camper with a beer bottle and that Cherokee rose sticking out of it. He'd given her hope for her little girl, and it had been the best gift anyone had ever given her.

Her biggest regret about killing Karen and David was that she hadn't been able to talk to Daryl about it. It hadn't been like she wanted to kill anyone. No. The safety of the group had been the top priority, and with Karen and David so sick and clearly not getting better, the only option aside from watching everybody else get sick and die too was to try and cut the sickness before it spread too far. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked, and Karen and David were still dead.

The memory of it all left her feeling cold and sick. The way Rick had looked at her and talked to her as if she was some kind of monster for thinking of the group like that had left her feeling very much like the woman she once was when Ed was around. When Rick told her he wouldn't have her around his children, it had been like a knife in the gut. She understood he was protecting his family, but it still stung. And she wondered if he'd have gone as far as she had for his own children.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the car seat. She hated feeling like this. And feeling it while being so isolated was about to drive her crazy. She didn't like feeling this way toward Rick, either. After all, he'd helped keep most of the group alive this long. That was why she couldn't understand how he, as a man who had killed his best friend to safe his own life, could lash out at her over Karen and David. It was murder. She got that. But life wasn't what it used to be. One person comes down with an illness that results in them bleeding from the eyes and throat with no immediate access to medicine, and they put an entire group of people at risk of sickness and death. It was horrible to think about. It could have easily been any of them that had gotten sick. It could have been Rick. Or her. Or Daryl. That…well, that she couldn't stand to think about.

Daryl glanced down to see he was nearing E. He'd probably gone close to sixty miles from the prison, stopping every once in a while to check the area for signs of Carol. So far, the only thing he'd run into was a herd of walkers. He'd taken out half a dozen or so before they became so thick in numbers that he had to chance an escape. He'd managed alright, but he couldn't help but wonder if Carol had come across that same herd. Had she survived? The thought had his chest feeling tight and his stomach turning. He hated the idea of Carol being all alone out there. She was a strong woman who could take care of herself, but Daryl already knew that if he came to find anything had happened to her, he'd have no problem going back into that prison and beating Rick grimes within an inch of his life.

_An eye for an eye, baby brother_. It was something Merle always said when somebody crossed him and he wanted revenge.

About a mile down the road, Daryl began to hear the familiar sputtering he was dreading. Growling angrily, he brought his bike to a stop and turned it off. He pocketed the keys, got off the bike and kicked the tire. Hard.

"Goddamn fuckin' thing," he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets and kicking the gravel under his feet. He adjusted his crossbow and pack over his shoulder and looked down the road. All eh saw was pavement and leaves and discarded bags strewn along the way. Bad thing about the end of the world? Nobody to give you a lift when you find yourself out of gas.

The only car he could see that wasn't a burnt out shell was about a half mile up. He didn't have much of a choice, so he started pushing the motorcycle down the road. He kept an eye out for walkers and hoped the car up ahead would have some gas left to spare. From what he could tell, it was some kind of SUV, which was promising. If anybody had stopped to loot some gas, maybe there would still be some left.

The closer he got, the harder he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. He was tired, and this car was probably the closest thing he had to shelter for the night. He'd gas up the bike, take shelter for the night and start fresh in the morning.

When he approached the vehicle, he parked the bike in front of it and slowly circled it, looking for signs of life or living death. Inside the car, he could see a blanket on the back seat and a few bottles of water. He noticed a half-empty bag of jerky on the dash and several more bottles of water in the back of the car. His hand tightened on his crossbow, and he opened the passenger's side door. He took the bag of jerky out and sniffed it. He pulled a small piece out and bit into it. It was surprisingly fresh, which meant whoever was occupying this car hadn't been dead long, or they were alive and coming back.

He opened the glove box to find another bag of jerky. He didn't' exactly feel right about taking it, but given the shitty day he'd just had, and the fact that he was going to need his strength to find Carol, he didn't mull over it too long.

He popped open the back hatch easily and stuffed five bottles of water into his pack. He rummaged around a little, finding more food, batteries, flashlights and clothes. They were all women's clothes, all feminine and soft. As he pulled a familiar maroon top out of the bag, realization hit him in the gut like a heavy stone.

"I don't think that's really your color. It does nothing to bring out the color in your eyes." That voice! He spun sharply on his heels to find Carol leaning against a tree, arms folded across her chest. His breath left his lungs, and he felt a little dizzy.

"Carol?"

"Hi, Pookie." She gave him a little half-smile and walked toward him, a little unsure if a hug would be ok or not. But he moved toward her, bringing her into a strong hug, his hands moving up her back. She gasped at the feel of his strong arms around her, but she leaned into the hug, tears stinging her eyes.

"Hey, Stranger," he murmured, letting the hug linger for a few moments more. When they finally pulled away, she brushed her hand down his arm and linked her fingers with his.

"God, it's so good to see you," she murmured, brushing her own tears away with her free hand.

"I came lookin' for ya. Rick told me what happened." Her heart swelled at hearing he'd come after her, but at the same time, she felt a cold, clammy feeling in her stomach when she saw the anger that flickered in his eyes at the mention of Rick's name.

"Yeah, I'm sure he did." She nodded. "Daryl…"

"He had no right." His words fell between them like a boulder, and Carol pursed her lips, waiting for the inevitable Dixon explosion. "He had no right to do what he did."

"I'm fine, Daryl. Really." The waver in her voice did nothing to convince him. Still, she was a little too casual about the whole thing. He'd certainly not been expecting her to break down in his arms or anything, but she seemed to be doing ok on her own, and that was a tad unsettling. He wanted her safe, of course, but part of him, as selfish as it might have seemed, didn't want to be without her.

"Oh, you're fine?" he asked. "You, what, just accept that he threw you out like garbage?" His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides. "He had no fuckin' right!"

"Calm down, Daryl! Look, you know why he did it. He told you, right?" Daryl eyed her and gave a short nod. "I'm not part of that group anymore. I made a choice." Her voice was quivering again. "_I _killed Karen and David. I did that. And Rick has every right to make a decision for the group…" She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that.

"Christ, Carol! Would ya stop defendin' him?" Daryl was pacing angrily in front of her now. She wanted to reach out for him, but she knew she'd better let him cool off first. She wasn't afraid of him, but she knew that if she reached out, he'd pull away. Finally, he let out a sharp breath and moved closer to her. "Rick don't make decisions for me." He thumped his chest to stress the point. It was a bit caveman-like, and Carol felt a flutter in her stomach. Damn it, he was even sexy when he was pissed off.

"Daryl," she urged softly, "it's ok."

"Like hell it's ok!" he hollered. He knew better. Within moments, two walkers appeared from the trees. "Aw shit." He spat on the ground, aimed his crossbow and launched an arrow through the rancid walker's eye. Carol removed her knife from her belt and stuck it right through the other walker's skull, giving the handle a turn before she removed it and wiped off the blade. Daryl looked at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. She was so composed and handled herself just fine, and here he was all pissed off because of Rick Grimes, and _he_ was the one to fuck up and call attention to him.

"You wanna keep yelling, or do you wanna get in the car?" Carol nodded toward a group of a dozen or so walkers approaching from the other side of the road. Daryl took one last look at his old motorcycle before he slid into the car with Carol. She turned on the ignition and peeled out, driving like a bat out of hell. Funny thing was, she seemed perfectly calm and steady with her hands on the wheel.

When they were safely away from the small herd, Daryl relaxed in his seat and looked at Carol, who had slowed the car considerably.

"The hell you learn to drive like that?" he wondered. She cricked her neck and shrugged as a small smile quirked up in the corner of her mouth.

"I picked up a few things from _you_ over the last year or so," she teased. He felt his neck tingle and gave her an uncertain half-smile. He tossed his crossbow and pack into the backseat, and Carol sighed, adjusting the rear view mirror.

"So," she broached quietly, eyeing him from her side of the car. "You want me to take you back to the prison?"

"You serious?" he asked, as if it was the world's most ridiculous question. "I ain't goin' nowhere if you ain't goin' too."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The words replayed over and over in her head. _I ain't goin' nowhere if you ain't goin' too._ She could probably sit there and pick it apart and try to figure out what he really meant by it, but there was no time. They'd driven for a good hour in silence, and there was a thick tension filling the spacious interior of the car.

Daryl was rigid in the passenger's seat, eyes fixated directly on the road as Carol drove. If he'd been a child, Carol would have sworn he was pouting.

"We'll find you another one," she said softly, cutting the silence.

"Huh?" He'd been so focused on focusing on the road that he wasn't sure what she'd just said.

"Your bike? I'm sorry we had to leave it."

"Hell," he muttered. "Ain't worried 'bout no damn bike." Carol didn't really believe that, but she nudged his shoulder with her own.

"Still…if we come across one, something bright and shiny…" Daryl gave a little shrug and looked out the window again. He'd been trying not to think about the fact that just over an hour ago, he'd told her he wouldn't go anywhere without her. He wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling, and he wasn't sure how she took it, or if she really understood how much he cared for her. Dixons never talked about their feelings. Even growing up, if Daryl had ever even treaded into deep, meaningful conversations with Merle, his older brother would just shove a beer in his hand and tell him to shut the fuck up. Bury all the feelings and shit and pretend until they went away.

"Hey Carol?"

"Hmm?" she asked, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the view as the sun started to set.

"You really don't wanna go back?"

"I don't," she said, a bit stiffly. "I'm not welcome there. I'm doing fine on my own."

"I saw." He chewed his tongue for a minute. "But it ain't true. I mean, you belong there. More'n some of 'em. I get it…why you killed 'em. They were dyin' anyway…coulda infected a lot more people. Hell, I coulda got it. Rick too. You ask me, he ought to be on his fuckin' knees beggin' you to come back." He caught Carol rolling her eyes.

"I don't hate Rick, Daryl."

"Well, that makes one of us."

"You don't hate him either. You're just pissed off. I was too. I almost turned the car around and followed him back to the prison." There was silence between them for a few minutes, and then Daryl spoke up again.

"Why didn't ya? Follow him back, I mean."

"I don't know. I guess I figured that if I was gonna be on my own, I might as well start taking care of myself. So I did. I drove away and didn't look back." She caught the concern in Daryl's eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye."

"Ain't your fault," he muttered. "You didn't know what he was gonna do." They were quiet again for a few minutes, and after a while, he heard her take a shaky breath. He glanced at her and saw the tears in her eyes.

"I really messed this us," she whispered.

"Hey," he said slowly, that Dixon drawl coating his every word, "ain't nobody innocent. Not anymore. 'Cept maybe 'Lil Asskicker." Carol smiled a bit at that, wiping her tears back. "Thing is…we're livin' in a whole new world, ya know? You did what you had to to try and survive and save other folks from getting' sick." He cocked his head to the side. "You got that?"

"I got it," she sniffled.

"Good. 'Cause I know you're gonna beat yourself up over it, and I ain't gonna be able to do nothin' about that. But you're a good person, Carol. I never met nobody like you before. You took what you was dealt and lived with it. You survived it." He heard a little sob chirp out from her lips, but she composed herself and reached across the seat to curl her fingers with his.

"Thank you, Daryl," she murmured. "Are you sure you don't want me to turn back? Take you back to the group?"

"I already told ya, didn't I? I ain't goin' nowhere if you ain't. And that's _my_ choice." She gave him a thankful smile. He gave her fingers an awkward little squeeze. She slowly pulled her hand away to rest on the seat between them, and they continued on down the road in silence.

The sun had long since set when Carol turned down a long drive. They'd found an old farmhouse, surprisingly still standing. There were a few walkers on the property that they could see with the light of the full moon, but they were scattered and heading into the woods.

Carol turned off the lights and crept slowly up the dirt road.

"What do you think?" she wondered, peering into the darkness.

"Think it's the best we're gonna find tonight. It's gettin' late." Carol gave a little hum of agreement and pulled the car to a stop outside the old house. She pulled her gun out of the side of her boot, checked her rounds and turned off the safety. Daryl watched her, his mouth open a little, feeling a little funny deep in his stomach at the sight of it. His mouth was dry now, his hands were sweating, and he was suddenly reminded of the way he'd felt the first time he'd been in a car alone with a girl his sophomore year of high school. She'd been a junior, had her own car, and that was pretty much all Daryl had needed to know at the time.

"You coming?" Carol asked, eyeing Daryl with a cocked eyebrow. "You in there?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah." He was thankful for the darkness, but he felt for sure he was blushing. _What the hell, man? Grow a pair, why dontcha?_ He grabbed his crossbow out of the back, and in moments, they were creeping up the porch steps of this big Victorian style farm house. Carol was the one to knock on the door, checking for walkers. Not a sound came from inside, so they jimmied open the lock and stepped in. The house was cold inside, and as they shined their flashlights around, it was pretty obvious nobody had been living there for some time. Every piece of furniture and knickknack had a thin layer of dust.

"I'll check the upstairs," Carol offered. Daryl gave a grunt of approval and a nod. They went about searching every room of the house for walkers. Carol even checked the attic, while Daryl checked the basement. Given the way the house was locked up as tight as a drum, she figured the family that had lived there had locked up and headed for Atlanta or somewhere else when the outbreak first happened.

After about twenty minutes, they were making sure they were locked in safely for the night. Daryl pulled all the shades and curtains closed and started a warm fire. The orange glow dancing about the living room was a rare delight. Carol set about fixing some coffee over the fire, while Daryl raided the kitchen, coming back with two cans of Spam and some potato chips.

"Ah, we're eating fancy tonight, hmm?" Carol teased, as Daryl lowered himself down onto the floor next to the fireplace. He waited until Carol finished pouring the coffee to hand her her portion of the meal. They sipped their coffee—an increasingly rare treat in the apocalypse—and nibbled at their Spam in silence, both catching each other's gaze once in a while, sometimes just reminding themselves that they were safe, they were together, and whatever else happened could happen tomorrow. Tonight, they had coffee, they had food, they had a hot fire, and most importantly, they had each other.

Carol cleaned up after their mean, while Daryl added a couple more dusty logs from the pile in the corner to the blazing hearth. When Carol returned from the back of the house, she was wearing a pair of what Daryl could only assume were jogging pants and a big, comfy sweater.

"That's better," she practically purred, stretching out on the sofa, coughing a little when the dust flew up in a cloud around her. She waved her hand in front of her face, a little laugh escaping her lips. He just watched her, a smile twitching up at his lips when she laughed. It was good to see her relax and just enjoy the moment. Her eyes sparkled when she smiled, and he wished he could see that side of her more often. Since Sophia died, she'd become a skilled shooter and had become quite handy with a knife. In all of that time she'd been honing her skills, she hadn't had much time for laughter and relaxation. That was another luxury not often afforded when the dead were getting up and trying to bite you.

"You comfy?" he asked after she'd settled down, draping her legs over the arm of the couch that he currently had his back up against.

"Mmm," she murmured sleepily, cozying up to a throw pillow.

"You warm?"

"Yeah," she yawned, covering her mouth. Daryl felt a foot brush over his shoulder, and he glanced at Carol like she'd grown another head. Carol cracked a smile.

"Kind of romantic," she mused. Daryl knew where this was going. Her toes tickled his neck."

"You put somethin' in that coffee, woman?" His neck was on fire. She burst out laughing, and boy did it feel good. Daryl shook his head and couldn't suppress a smile or ignore the light feeling in his heart at the sound of her so happy.

"I'm glad you're here, Daryl," she said, her words a bit slurred from exhaustion. "Was starting to think I might never see you again." He turned to say something—what, he wasn't sure of—but he noticed her eyes were closed, and she was drifting off to sleep. He sighed and pulled himself up, found an old afghan draped over a rocking chair and took it over to place over Carol's sleeping form. He found himself brushing a hand over her shoulder gently, and she moved under his touch. She stilled after a moment, falling deeper into a restful sleep.

"Don't worry," he murmured, pulling a pillow off the rocking chair and throwing it down on the floor. "I ain't leavin' you again. And you ain't leavin' me." He lay down by the couch, and before long, he was fast asleep, dreaming curious dreams of Carol's laughter and Carol's feet.

Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think. :)


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for the feedback so far, everyone! I appreciate it! Please continue to let me know what you think! I'm having so much fun writing this story!_

Chapter 3

Daryl woke sometime while it was still dark out. He figured it had to be early morning considering the fire had died out. He realized he was shivering, but his feet were toasty warm. It was then that he noticed Carol's afghan had fallen off of her sometime in the night and had pooled on the floor over his feet. He quickly grabbed it and stood to drape it over Carol. She was shivering, but as he covered her, she relaxed and sighed softly in her sleep.

He stumbled around in the darkness and found a quilt draped over a nearby recliner. He pulled it around his shoulders and made his way down the hall toward the downstairs bathroom to take a piss. He was sure that if he'd had some light, he'd be able to see his breath. His toes felt like icicles. It was going to be a brutal winter, that much was obvious, and it was barely even fall yet.

He yawned and closed his eyes as he stood there relieving himself, and he didn't even notice the sound of feet shuffling down the hall or the flash of light on the walls. When he heard a gasp, he jumped and realized Carol was standing in the doorway, flashlight in hand.

"Jesus!" he hissed, stuffing himself back into his pants, feeling his neck and face burning again.

"I'm sorry! " she cried out, turning away quickly. "I had to go, and I didn't know you were…"

"It's alright," he muttered, brushing past her and fleeing down the hall. "S'all yours." Carol leaned against the door frame, her hand covering her mouth in utter shock. But after replaying it in her head, she couldn't help but grin and stifle a giggle at the way he'd taken off like a deer in the forest. She felt horrible, but hey, they were both human, and those things were bound to happen when you share close quarters with someone for long periods of time.

Carol finished up her business and slowly made her way back down the hall towards the warm, orange glow in the living room. Daryl was starting another fire. She felt awkward now, like some school girl who'd just walked in on her brother's best friend or something.

She silently padded over to the couch, wrapped the afghan around her and settled down, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. When he glanced in her direction, she felt the distinct urge to look away, but she didn't.

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't see…anything. I promise."

"S'alright," he muttered. "It happened."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean…I mean, I didn't think you'd be in there, and…"

"Don't worry about it," he grunted, stabbing at a burning log with the heavy poker, sending a swirl of burning embers up into the dark chimney. "Gotta be more careful next time is all."

"Maybe we should designate 'his and hers' bathrooms." Daryl gave a little snort at her suggestion, prodding the fire.

"Well, come tomorrow, maybe we can move on."

"You think?" she asked, pulling her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest. She looked around the homey little living room and shrugged her shoulders. He eyed her, watching the possibilities flicker in her beautiful eyes.

"You got somethin' better in mind?"

"Maybe," she murmured, focusing her gaze back on him. "It's a nice house…plenty big enough. It seems secure and off the beaten path."

"You thinkin' of stayin'?"

"We don't have to. We can move on, you know, if you want." His heart swelled. She wasn't even considering the possibility of staying or going without him. This was going to be _their_ decision. They were going to make a life; a new start. The revelation hit him like a brick in the gut. "Daryl?"

"Huh?"

"What are you thinking?" Daryl shrugged and looked around, weighing the possibilities. Staying somewhere safe with Carol as opposed to sleeping in a car or out in the woods in the dead of winter definitely had its advantages.

"I'm thinkin'….this _is_ a pretty nice house." Carol smiled warmly—that bright, infectious smile that he'd grown to love—and he was sold. They were staying.

By morning, the overnight chill had gone away, and Carol woke to a blade of sunlight staring her right in the face from a gap in the curtains. She moaned softly and turned away, but the sudden smell of meat frying and the sound of it sizzling and popping was enough to rouse her other senses. Her stomach growled embarrassingly loudly. She sat up, stretching and throwing the afghan over the back of the couch.

Her gaze immediately fell on the sight of Daryl Dixon squatting in front of the fire place, an old skillet in one hand and a spatula in the other. Inside the skillet were some rather plump pieces of browned meat that made Carol's mouth water.

"You didn't wake me," she murmured with a yawn. Daryl gazed over his shoulder for a moment before turning back to their breakfast.

"You looked peaceful," he pointed out. "Figured I'd get some huntin' in."

"What'd you get?"

"Rabbit," he mumbled. "Saw a couple deer. Might be some more come spring." The hopeful tone to his voice was good to hear. She moved to the floor to sit next to him.

"Smells great."

"Kitchen had some old spices. Weren't too far past the expiration date, so I figured they'd be ok."

"Good thinking." Carol's stomach grumbled again at the smell of the spices and cooking meat swirling together in little tendrils of smoke. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had anything to eat that smelled so delicious. These days, she tended to eat whatever was available, not question it, and on some occasions, pray she kept her gag reflexes intact to get through a meal.

"Hey, take that plate." Daryl nodded toward a plate he'd sat down for her, and she picked it up. He scooped out a chunk of meat and put it on the plate for her. She waited. "Go on."

"I can wait."

"I heard your stomach all the way over here. Go on. Dig in." Carol blushed at that and began to eat, enjoying the flavor of the spices and the gamey taste of the meat. Daryl was quite a good cook!

He fished his food out and put the hot skillet on the floor of the hearth to cool off in front of the fire. They ate in silence for a few minutes, both stealing glances at one another when the other wasn't looking. Finally, Daryl put his plate aside, licked his fingers and cleared his throat.

"We get cleaned up, we'll head out and get started."

"Get started?" Carol asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'm gonna teach you how to hunt."

"I can hunt," she protested.

"With my crossbow," he explained. "An arrow ain't gonna draw walkers from miles away."

"Good point," Carol said slowly, a little in awe that he'd let her touch his bow, let alone practice with it. "Thanks."

"Sure," he said quietly. " You get good enough, we might just find one for you."

"Nah," she teased. "We only need one bowman around here."

"Maybe a kickass machete," he said with a dry laugh.

"Oh yeah. I could go for that." They laughed together, making small talk for a little while before Carol excused herself to go change. He watched her walk out of the room with her bag, and the blood drained from his face, finding more interesting places to go when he saw the way her pants clung to her ass, showing off the curve of her hips. He suddenly visualized his hands all over her.

"Shit," he grumbled, shaking the thought out of his head. No way could he be thinking about her like that if they were gonna be out in the woods killing things. He might just end up shooting himself in the damned foot.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when these thoughts of her had started swirling around in his head, but it confused the hell out of him. She was the best friend he'd ever had in his entire life. She wasn't like any other women he'd known. She was strong and resilient. She'd been through so much shit, but she was still able to smile. She could still laugh, and _God_ did he love to hear her laugh.

When Rick had told him he'd sent Carol off on her own, his stomach had sunk, and his heart felt like it was twisted in a knot. Besides wanting to knock Rick's teeth out of his jaw, his only desire had been to go out after Carol and make sure she was ok. And she was. He'd never prayed for anything in his whole life until he'd thought he might never see her again.

He could hear Carol shuffling around upstairs, and he figured he'd probably better change. The hunting clothes he'd worn earlier were going to be far too hot now that the sun was out. So, he stripped down to his boxers and pulled on a thinner pair of jeans. As he was doing up the fly, Carol came down the stairs, freezing in place when she saw him standing there without his shirt on. Her mouth fell open a little, and she placed her hand on her chest.

He didn't see her at first. She stood there, watching the way he carried himself when he was alone. He was strong and looked like he was thinking hard about something, and she wondered what that something might be. Her gaze drifted down his broad shoulders and his well-muscled arms. Her heart fluttered in her chest and heat flushed at her cheeks and other surprising places. She bit her lip at the sight of a light trail of hair down his stomach, disappearing beneath the band of his jeans.

Rather than stay in the shadows and risk getting caught lurking, she stepped off the last step and into sight. He looked up at her, watching her walking toward him wearing a pretty jade green sleeveless top and a pair of jeans. She was wearing boots—_them fuckin' sexy boots—_he'd seen her pick up out of a car along the highway sometime last year. They were women's hunting boots, but on her, they were sexy as hell.

She turned, putting one foot up on the coffee table, bending over slightly to slide her knife into the side of her boot. Her jeans were just tight enough that they clung to her ass when she did this. Daryl was suddenly very aware that he was standing there wearing only his jeans, and his dick was about to make a tent in them. He quickly pulled a white t-shirt over his head, pulled his boots on, grabbed his crossbow and headed toward the door.

"Best get goin'. Wanna get our trainin' in early so we can go on a supply run later." Daryl unlocked the front door and headed out, leaving Carol alone to finish getting ready. Her heart was pounding, and the only thing she could think about was him standing there, shirtless with a fine spread of course hair across his chest. All she wanted to do was touch him.

With a helpless sigh, she realized this wasn't going to just be hunting practice. It was going to be willpower practice, too. Somehow, she was going to have to train herself not to get so worked up over Daryl Dixon, but the heat pooling between her legs made her hormones pretty damned hard to ignore.

Taking a deep breath, she followed after Daryl, hoping she'd be able to get through this morning without completely losing control.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hunting practice was a success. With Daryl's crossbow, Carol had shot a rabbit, two squirrels and three walkers. They'd happened upon the walkers on their way back to the house, and without batting an eyelash, Carol took out three walkers, one by one, her finger never shaking on the bow. Daryl was impressed. More than that, he was pretty fucking turned on.

By the time they made it up to the house, Daryl muttered something about going off to clean their kill, so Carol decided to make their home a little more cozy. She went about dusting off the furniture in the upstairs rooms, shaking out the dust from the bedding. It was a taxing chore, but it was nice to get her mind off of what her body kept reminding her of.

The ache in her shoulder reminded her of the night on top of the overturned bus outside the prison when Daryl had massaged her shoulder and they'd joked about fooling around. It also reminded her of how Daryl put his hand steady on her shoulder just that afternoon, helping her learn how to perfect her aim. The twinge in her side reminded her of how out of shape she'd felt when they'd taken off sprinting after a deer that got away, and she'd tumbled. He'd caught her, hands moving around her waist to steady her. She remembered turning in his arms, smelling that musky smell that only belonged to Daryl. It was a little intoxicating, and she remembered having wobbled a bit, getting kind of dizzy looking into his eyes.

The entire way back home, up until they'd run across the walkers, she'd been silently scolding herself for getting so worked up in that way. The last thing Daryl Dixon needed in his life was some woman getting hot and bothered when he's trying to teach her survival skills, right? But, at the same time, she could have sworn she'd felt something when he'd brushed up against her, helping her aim. Was that…could that have been..no. She'd shrugged it off, and both of them had pretended that he hadn't just accidentally pressed his erection against her ass.

By the time she could smell supper cooking downstairs, the upstairs was almost fully livable. Aside from the wood floors needing washed, the place looked pretty good. She placed her hands on her hips and smiled as she admired the payoff of her hard work.

"Supper's ready," Daryl called from downstairs.. Carol went to join him, and she was surprised to find he'd served their food at the dinner table. He even had a couple glasses set out. She was a little curious about the glass bottle on the table.

"What's this?" she asked, sitting down to a plate of rabbit and squirrel.

"Found this under the sink," he said with a sheepish smile, popping the top off the whiskey bottle.. "You want some?"

Carol hadn't had much in the way of alcohol for a very long time, unless that partial glass at the CDC counted. The occasional glass of champagne or wine had been about all she'd had since Sophia was born. Of course, in the later years of their marriage, Ed had wanted to chastise her or beat her for having a sip of something, saying it wasn't right for a woman to be drinking. He'd shame her and she'd not touch the stuff for a long time. So, she figured, what the hell?

She held her glass up, and Daryl began to pour. The amber liquid sloshed into the glass, and Carol quickly held her hand up.

"When," she laughed. Daryl filled his glass a little fuller and sat down across from Carol.

"You did good today," he said between mouthfuls. "Pretty good for a beginner, I mean."

"Thanks. I have a good teacher." She took a sip of whiskey, and her nose and throat burned as it went down. She coughed and held her hand over her mouth, her face turning red. Daryl couldn't suppress a grin at that. "Guess I still have a lot to learn."

"I don't mind teachin'," he replied, the tone of his voice definitely not going unnoticed by Carol She felt warmth in her cheeks. He chugged back the last of the whiskey in his cup and took a few more bites of food. "I been thinkin', we can build a perimeter. Have the kind of set up we had at the farm, you know? We ain't got no fancy barn or nothin' like that, but we can do somethin' to try and keep the walkers out."

"Sounds fine to me," Carol replied, chewing her food slowly, afraid she'd choke if Daryl kept licking his lips the way he did after every bite. Did he realize what he was doing to her?

"You ok?"

"Hmm?"

"Your face is kinda red."

"Oh." She blushed more. "I'm a little warm."

"Yeah, that's the whiskey," he said with a little laugh.

"Yeah, the whiskey." Or the sexy bowman who she was currently undressing with her eyes. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, and the room dimmed significantly. Daryl acted quickly and lit a couple of candles.

"I think it's safe to say the supply run's waitin' til tomorrow." Carol drank down the last of her whiskey, and when she stood, she felt very woozy. The sturdy chair held her balance as she watched Daryl go to the window-whisky bottle in hand—and look out. "Storm's comin' slow. It's a bad one."

"I love storms," Carol murmured sleepily.

"Yeah?"

"The worse the better. They're so relaxing." She closed her eyes and smiled, swaying a little because of the booze. Daryl smirked at her.

"Lightweight."

"Hey, it might surprise you to know, Daryl Dixon, that once upon a time, I could drink you_ and _ your brother under a table."

"Now _that_ I'd like to see," he replied, plopping down on the couch. Carol crossed from the dining room into the living room, keeping her eyes on him, and she sat down next to him on the couch.

"Your brother called me a mouse."

"What?"

"At the prison. He said he thought of me like a mouse afraid of my own shadow."

"Well, Merle weren't never the sharpest knife in the set, if ya know what I mean." Still, it tugged at his heart to think of his brother, the way he'd looked at him after he'd turned, the way he'd charged at him. But, this was Carol's time to talk, so he was going to listen.

"He was right," she pointed out, squinting her eyes to let them adjust to the flicker of candle light coming from the dinner table.

"You ain't no mouse."

"Not anymore, maybe. But I was when I was with Ed. It wasn't who I used to be. I _let_ him do that to me."

"Ed was a piece of shit." He eyed her, gauging her reaction. "Any man lays his hands on a woman deserves to die the way Ed did."

"Yeah, well, I won't argue with you on that." She reached for the whiskey bottle, and he let her have it. She took a long swig, the stinging subsiding in moments, and she tapped her fingers on the glass neck of the bottle. "But, before I met Ed? I drank. A lot. Socially, but it was a lot."

"I can't believe that," Daryl said with a little chuckle of amusement.

"Well, I wasn't going to bars every night, but I could hold my liquor," she protested. "I met Ed at a bar." She caught Daryl's gaze and rolled her eyes. "Cliché, I know."

"Nah, I met lots of girls in bars. Met lots of Eds, too. Beat the shit out of lots of Eds." He smirked, took the bottle, drank another swig and gave it back to Carol. "Only wished I'd be the shit out of _your_ Ed." Carol leaned her head back against the couch but turned her face toward him.

"Well, no need to worry about him anymore. He's gone. Feels like a whole lifetime ago." She placed her hand on her stomach as she had many years ago when she'd found out she was pregnant with Sophia. "Only thing he ever gave me that was good was my daughter." She felt tears in her eyes but willed them away.

"Fuck 'im. He didn't deserve you. Or Sophia." Daryl finished off the whiskey and slammed the bottle down on the coffee table. Carol jumped at the sound of glass against oak.

"He wasn't always like that.. If he was, I wouldn't have married him. I should have known better than to marry the man who took me home from a bar with scotch on his breath, but I loved him. My daddy hated him, and I think…I think that make me want Ed more." She shook her head, running her fingers through her short hair that was now spiky with sweat.

"Your daddy…was he a good man?"

"He was the best," she said with a fond, sad smile. "But I was a rebel."

"Naw, you shittin' me?"

"No," she laughed. "I was the footloose and fancy free girl living under my daddy's law. He was a good dad who set rules and curfews, and I was _that_ girl who thought he should just trust me and let me live my life." She shrugged her shoulders. "I married Ed when I was twenty and thought I was free from rules." She rolled her eyes. "Truth is, Ed was fun at first. We had a lot of fun. He was passionate…not cold and mean. Not at first." She chewed on her lip and drummed her fingers against her thigh. "I had trouble getting pregnant. It put stress on us. His job was stressful. He'd go out drinking with his buddies first. Then he'd drink at home. Then he'd get violent. First time he hit me, I was pregnant with Sophia. I didn't even know it yet." She shook her head. "You know, we were married fifteen years before he ever hit me?"

"What'd you do?"

"I didn't know what to do.. I was gonna leave him. I was. I had a little job at the library. I worked a few days a week, and I even planned to leave him and stay with a friend in Michigan." She frowned at the memory. "But then I found out about Sophia. Ed was excited. He told me he'd change and that he'd go to marriage counseling. I thought I owed it to our marriage. Fifteen years couldn't be all for nothing, right?" She looked into Daryl's eyes. "I was stupid enough to think he'd never hurt me again. And he didn't. Not 'til after Sophia was born." She closed her eyes, forcing back the tears.

"I'm sorry," Daryl murmured, reaching over to pull his arm around her shoulder She sniffled and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for Sophia, too."

"I should've killed him myself," she muttered angrily. "I should've never let him touch me again. I should have…I should have left."

"Can't change what's past," he whispered, stroking his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. "Can't think on it…it'll just drive ya crazy." Carol sniffled and wiped her tears back.

"Listen to me, rambling on. This whiskey…"

"It's been known to loosen lips," Daryl mused.

"Oh, but not yours," Carol replied, smiling at the change of direction in their conversation. "I still don't know much about you."

"Mmm." He shrugged and ran his fingers through his long hair before rubbing his eyes. "Ain't much to tell, ya know? Mom died when I was young, my dad raised me and Merle. Merle was his whipping boy. When he'd take off, I'd get the beatin'."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. Daryl shrugged off the pity. He didn't need anybody's pity. It was what it was. No changing it.

"Dropped out of high school, worked some shit jobs when Merle was gone. Ran around with him when he was home. Kept his ass from choking on his own tongue or overdosin'. Was like a full time job without the pay." Carol watched the way his lips twitched as he spoke, as if the past was just too much and facing it was like reliving it all over again.. She knew too well what that was like. "When everything went to shit, it was just me and Merle, sleepin' in cars, huntin', just tryin' to survive, ya know?" He looked away. "One night, we found a camp. We was gonna rob it…take what supplies we needed and get the hell out"

"What stopped you?" Carol asked. Even in the candle light, she could see him swallow hard, taking his time, trying to answer the best way he knew how.

"I saw you." Her breath caught in her chest. "You were laughin', readin' some story to Sophia. She had her head in your lap, and you was strokin' her hair, and she was about to fall asleep, but she said somethin', and it made ya laugh." Carol felt the tears prickle her eyes again. "'Bout that time, Dale caught sight of Merle, and our cover was blown. Merle gave me shit for weeks. I was the one that was supposed to grab the water bottles. But I didn't, 'cause I saw you."

Carol lifted her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob. Daryl suddenly felt like complete idiot.

"Jesus. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinkin'."

"No. It's ok. I'd…I'd forgotten about that." He eyed her, letting her finish. "It was dark. I couldn't find the book of stories I usually read to Sophia and Carl when it got late at camp. I grabbed the first book I could find."

"What was it?"

"It was some joke book. One of the random books from Dale's camper. I don't even remember the joke, but Sophia knew the punch line before I said it, and we both laughed." She sniffled. "Thank you for that…for reminding me." He felt his heart tighten in his chest. He'd just confessed to her that he and Merle were going to rob their camp blind that night, and she _thanked_ him.

"Carol?"

"Hmm?" She smiled, caught in a memory.

"I'll take you there if you want. Back to her grave." Carol sobered and shook her head, her heart swelling at his sweet offer.

"That's the past. It's over now. We have to keep looking forward. I owe that to my Sophia." She placed her hand over her heart and took a deep breath. "I'm done looking back. I just want to start over." Daryl nodded in agreement. He picked up the empty whiskey bottle and raised it up in a toast.

"To startin' over." Thunder shook the windows and Carol smiled.

"On that note, I think I'd better see myself to my room."

"Your room?" he asked, standing up with her.

"Yeah. We have rooms now," she said proudly. "I took the room with the flowered wallpaper. Yours is across from mine. No flowers. Manly. I thought you'd like it," she teased. He gave her a little eye roll, and she placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying herself. "Whoa."

"You ok?" Daryl asked quietly, the warmth of her hand on his shoulder doing things to him that he didn't think were possible.

"I'm drunk, Daryl" she giggled, leaning on him and covering her mouth with her hand. "I haven't been drunk in…in a long time."

"Yeah, good thing that's the only bottle in the house." He eyed her, an amused smile peaking at his lips. "C'mon. Lemme help you upstairs."

"My hero," she giggled as he lifted her into his arms with ease.

"Stop," he muttered. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he inhaled the scent of her hair. It wasn't a flowery or sweet smell. It was a clean, Carol smell, and it was like nothing else in the world.

As he started up the steps with her, he faltered, leaning against the wall. She laughed again.

"What's so funny?"

"You're drunk too, Pookie."

"Shit," he mumbled, "I been drunker. This ain't nothin'." He managed to hold onto her and get all the way up the stairs and safely to the bedroom door. He let her down, and she stood facing him, and he suddenly felt that backseat with a chick awkwardness again. "You, um, ok now?"

"Hmm," she murmured with a little nod.

"Can ya make it to bed ok?"

"I dunno," she whispered in the dark, her face inches from his. "You might have to carry me." She expected him to tell her to stop or to nudge her shoulder or something, but he was still, and she suddenly felt very nervous. Her hands shook when she felt him pull her into his arms, and she gasped when he lifted her up again.

He nudged the door open with his foot and carried her through the dark. He could just make out her bed thanks to the moonlight filtering through the blinds. He stopped just next to her bed and let her stand on her own. Lightning zipped across the sky, and for a moment, all they could see was each other. And then it was dark again, as the storm raged on outside so loud it sounded like the world was coming to an end all over again.

He wasn't sure if it was the whiskey making him brave or the fact that his dick was semi hard in his pants, urging him on, but he stepped forward and heard her suck in a sharp breath. He wanted to bridge the gap and hold her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her, to make her his. But when he felt the room spin a little, he backed off. He didn't want to kiss her like this. He didn't want their first kiss to be fueled by whiskey.

He cleared his throat and stepped backward unsteadily.

"You need anything?"

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her body was urging her to reach out and touch him, but he'd backed off, and her mind was reeling.

"I…I'm ok."  
>"Good." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and she wondered what the hell had just happened.. "Well…'nite." He turned quickly and left her alone, shutting the door behind him and escaping to his own room, cursing under his breath at how close he'd come to possibly fucking up the one good thing he'd had since the world went to shit—or if he was being honest, since he was born—his friendship with Carol.<p>

Carol lost her footing and fell back against the bed, her heart racing, her mind clouded with confusion, her body aching with desire. She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened—or what had just _not_ happened, rather—but she was sure tomorrow morning was going to be awkward as hell.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Carol's leaned her throbbing head against the window of the passenger's side car door. It had been a long, awkward morning, and now she and Daryl were on their way, in complete silence—to make a supply run. Both wore sunglasses to shield their eyes from the bright morning sun. Somehow, hangovers seemed far worse in the apocalypse.

Neither spoke about the night before and the awkwardness before bed. Each of them wondered if maybe the other had forgotten or had blocked it all out thanks to good 'ole Jack D. Still, they said very little at breakfast, over bowls of stale, dry cereal. Daryl had suggested going out for an early supply run, and Carol had agreed, wanting to pick up a few necessities and personal items..

"Pickup truck," Daryl said with a nod toward an old truck that looked like it belonged on a farm in the 1960s.

"You stopping for gas?"

"Yeah." He stopped the car in front of the trunk and pulled out the rubber tubing and gas cans. Carol helped him set everything up and left him to siphon what gas he could from the old hauler. Carol rummaged through the truck's interior, finding a map, a hunting knife and a few fishing lures in the glove compartment. She tucked the items into her scavenging bag and climbed into the truck bed. There was a tool box and some fishing gear.. Finds like this were goldmines these days.

Carol quietly moved the items out of the truck and into the car. Daryl spat and wiped his mouth, trying to get rid of the taste of gasoline. Carol offered him a stale mint from the truck's console, and he gave her a look. She crinkled her nose at him and shrugged, feeling a little better now.

Within fifteen minutes, they were on their way back down the road, and before long, they came to a small town with a variety of stores along the main drag.

"Pharmacy," Carol pointed out.

"Grocery," Daryl nodded toward another building.

"Where you wanna start?"

"Let's see if they've got any antibiotics left. Never know what the winter's gonna bring." Carol followed him to the pharmacy, and it was no surprise when the door opened on its own. Daryl went in first, checking for any signs of walkers. When they were satisfied that the place was secure, they went about stuffing things like bandages into their bags.

Carol quickly moved along the feminine hygiene section, stuffing tampons and sanitary pads into her bag. She silently thanked the heavens when she found a couple bottles menstrual cramp relief capsules still on the shelf.

Daryl was already ransacking the pharmacy, pulling out bottles of antibiotics and painkillers, just in case.

He watched as Carol made her way over to the soaps and shampoos, and he couldn't help but stare as she unscrewed cap after cap and sniffled the various scents. She selected a few and even picked up a few fragrances for men off the bottom shelf.

He moved along, rummaging through the aspirin and toothpaste, and he froze when he came upon a black box with gold letters. The words _for her pleasure_ stood out to him, and his mouth went dry. He looked over at Carol, who had moved on to first aid supplies , and he looked back at the box.

"Ready?" she asked him after a few moments. He wasn't exactly how long he'd been holding the box of condoms, but when he heard her voice, he quickly stuffed them in his pack and followed her on to the grocery store.

After they loaded the car up with their haul from the pharmacy and grocery, Carol and Daryl stopped by a small clothing store down the street.

"Jeans are in the back," Carol pointed. Daryl looked at her. "Come on, Daryl. You know you need a new pair."

"What's wrong with this pair?" he asked, looking down at himself. Carol bit her lower lip and went in for the kill.

"Well, the ass is wearing thin, for one. I can almost see your butt." She winked at him playfully. "On second thought, you don't need new jeans. Those are perfect."

"Shit," he mumbled, bumping her shoulder with his as she laughed a little too loudly. "Walked right into that one, didn't I?" Carol laughed again and started sorting through the blouses. Daryl eyed her for a moment, feeling some kind of way about her teasing, especially given the way he'd been feeling about her and the fact that a big box of condoms was stashed away in the car.

After what had happened last night, he knew he wanted her. He was pretty sure she wanted him, but he'd been wrong about these things before. Still, say he was right and they did want each other, who the hell was supposed to make the first move? Him because he was the man and it was expected, or her because she was the one who'd been hurt before?

Carol looked up at him, blushing at the realization that Daryl had been watching her. She anxiously rubbed the back of her neck, stuffed a few blouses into her pack and moved on toward the delicates.

First, she tucked a week's worth of socks into her pack. She was pretty sure all the pairs she had at home had a hole somewhere in them. Next on the list was underwear. She couldn't help but blush at some of the items displayed on the table. Ninety nine perfect of it would have been listed in the book _Fuck No, My Wife Ain't Wearing That Trash_ by Ed Peletier. With a confident smirk, she chose four of those pair in her size, some comfortable yet sexy white cotton panties. She chose bras to match. And then she saw it.. It was a black negligee that made her cheeks flush and her heart race at the same time. The last time she'd worn a negligee had been on her wedding night. After all these years, she suddenly felt more confidence in herself than she had since those early days of marriage, before it all went to hell.

It wasn't as if she anticipated having someone to look at her in it, but after the way she'd felt last night, after Daryl had left her so confused and worked up without having even touched her, she definitely knew she wanted someone to see her in it. Someday.

She looked nervously back toward the men's department, where Daryl was grabbing through piles of jeans, trying to find something to take back with him. After all, it would be a mighty cold winter in assless jeans.

Finally, in a split second decision, she stuffed the nightie into her pack and cleared her throat. Daryl looked up just as she opened the door.

"I'll be in the car" With that, she sucked out and left Daryl to his choosing.

The ride home was quiet. Too quiet. Daryl was busy thinking about what he'd been thinking about at the clothes store. They couldn't continue with this awkward back and forth. They had to move forward, and they had to make a choice about their relationship. It was just a matter of how to make that choice and who would initiate that moving forward.

If Carol hadn't been so busy thinking how silly she felt choosing that sexy negligee considering she was a single woman living at the end of civilization, she'd have noticed the way he chewed his lip nervously and glanced her direction once in awhile, his hand tightening on the wheel as if he was trying desperately to hold onto something for fear that letting up, even just a little bit, would send them spinning out of control.

By the time they got back to the house, Daryl was so tense that if Carol hadn't known better, she'd have thought he was angry with her. When he shut off the car, he grabbed his crossbow and slipped it over his shoulder

"You going hunting?" Carol asked, pulling her pack out of the back of the car.

"Yeah. Thought I'd see what I can find 'fore it gets dark."

"Okay. I think I'll take a bath." He felt his mouth go dry and his heart pound in his ears at the thought of her naked and wet. Daryl nodded and gave a little grunt that told her he'd heard her but that he didn't exactly want her to elaborate. Or maybe he did, and that made him more uncomfortable

"Alright," he muttered.

"Be careful?"

"Ain't I always?" He gave her a weak half-smile before heading off toward the trees. Carol stood there on the porch steps for a moment, watching him walk off , shoulders hunched over, and feet kicking at random clods of dirt in his path. She sighed and leaned against the front door, wishing they could get rid of this awkwardness between them.

After a few moments, she unlocked the door, hauled her things in and set about making a fire and then pulling bucket after bucket of water from the well out back to heat in pots over the fire.

It was sunset by the time Carol had enough water for a decent bath. She peered out of her bedroom window, looking for any sign of Daryl and not seeing one. With a sigh, she slipped out of her clothes, pulled a towel around her body and went down the hall to the master bathroom. She moaned softly when she slipped own into that hot water for the first time, feeling her skin tingle at the heat but feeling so relaxed she could just slip away into nothingness.

She soaked there for awhile, just enjoying the heat against her skin.. She cupped handfuls of water and released streams down her shoulders and over her breasts, shivering with the cool air in the room would take over, chilling her.. She finally grabbed a bar of soap—one of the sweet smelling ones from the pharmacy—and lathered it in her hands, enjoying the sweet scent of cranberry. She washed herself, her hands sliding over her most private places, sometimes lingering a little longer than usual, but she didn't care. She had a private moment and took full advantage, but she knew Daryl would be back soon, so she figured she'd better finish up her bath.

She used a cup and poured the water over her head, soaking her hair. She scrubbed her scalp with shampoo and rinsed off, feeling the cleanest she'd felt since the shower she'd had at the CDC so long ago.

When the water began to cool, Carol pulled herself out of the tub and slid into a new pair of white, cotton panties, some comfy, stretchy black pants and a long-sleeved white shirt. She examined herself in the mirror, running her hands over her flat stomach and down her hips. She'd lost quite a bit of weight since the world turned upside down, but she didn't think she looked sick. She looked lean and had even built up some muscle toting those heavy guns and packs around. She felt strong. S he felt beautiful. She felt better than she had in a long while, and she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face.

"Carol?" She jumped in surprise. She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Just a sec," she called, folding the towel over the rack by the tub. She opened the bathroom door, a smile on her face. Daryl stared at her, his blow slick with sweat, his chest heaving. "You ok?"

"Yeah. Got on the track of a doe, but she outran me. I'll try again tomorrow."

"Oh. That's ok," she said with a shrug. "We have plenty of stale cookies and jerky from our grocery run today."

"Sounds great," he chuckled. He couldn't help but notice the way she stood so relaxed, leaning against the door frame. "You ok, Carol?"

"Hmm. Yeah, why?"

"Dunno," he murmured. "You just…look different."

"Bad different?" she asked.

_Shit. Don't answer that. Either way, yer fucked, man._ Daryl chewed his lip and shrugged.

"Ya look happy." He saw a smile spread over her face.

"Yeah," she said, drawing a quizzical look from him. He figured he'd best not dwell on it any longer, and he moved toward his bedroom door.

"I'm gonna turn in."

"There's still some warm water if you wanna clean up. There's more water to heat up on the fire downstairs."

"M'kay," he said with a nod. "Thanks." Carol nodded and headed toward her own room.

"I think I'm gonna turn in." 

"Ain't you hungry?"

"I'm tired," she answered, covering a yawn with her hand. "I just wanna sleep." He gave her a little understanding nod.

"Alright. Well…'nite." He turned and disappeared into his room, closing the door behind himself. Carol stared at his door for a moment, considering going to him, considering forgetting everything she was worried about and everything she was afraid of, but as she took one step forward, the door handle squeaked and the door opened again. He came walking back out, his eyes searching hers.

Her lips fell open in a wordless question, and he walked toward her, placing his hands awkwardly on her waist. He leaned his forehead against hers, and she sighed, inhaling the scent of him, relishing the feel of his hands against her. She didn't dare speak, afraid to scare him, so she stood there, placing her hands on his arms, gently caressing him as if to tell him it was ok.

She closed her eyes, her heart pounding wildly against her breast, and she touched his chest, feeling his heart hammering against her fingertips.

He breathed in the smell of cranberry on her skin, and he sighed. He'd never been good at most of his firsts. First kiss had been a disaster. First make out session had ended messily in his jeans, effectively grossing out Susie Moss, the first girl he'd gotten to third base with. All of his firsts with all of those girls in the past had been disastrous in some way, and maybe that was why he was having so much trouble pushing through that barrier and crossing that line with Carol. She knew him. She cared for him despite all his flaws. He just didn't want to fuck it up.

"Daryl," she finally whispered, wanting desperately to pierce the silence as his breath came in ragged gasps so close to her lips. He pulled his face up, away from hers and looked into her eyes. She brought her hand up to caress his cheek and gave him that beautiful smile. And that was it. That gave him the confidence he needed. He bent down, pressing his lips to hers, his mind screaming, his heart racing, his body aching for her response.

She didn't let him down. She placed one hand on the back of his neck, while the other rested on his chest, and she opened up to him, opening up for his tongue, gasping as his slid against hers, warm and thick, and her body began to tremble.

He cupped her face in his hands, and as he began to pull back from the kiss, she gently pulled at his bottom lip with her teeth before releasing him. He let out a slow breath and ran the pad of his thumb over her lips. Looking into her eyes made him want to give her the world, and that scared him a little. He'd never felt so completely consumed by someone; so dependent on them before. He needed her, and that was more clear now than ever.

"Just didn't wanna go to bed one more night without you knowin'…" he murmured. She smiled as he took a little step back, giving her some space. She reached out, grasping his bicep, giving him a little squeeze.

"I know," she whispered. "I know." She went to him this time, kissing him softly and running her fingers down his neck and tucking them into the neck of his shirt. When she finally pulled back, she looked up into his eyes and smiled that smile. "Me too." She turned—god it took everything in her not to fall into him and follow him to bed, but she knew they both needed time—and walked back toward her door. "Good night, Daryl."

"Night," he murmured, watching her disappear into her room, wishing desperately that he was on the other side of that door with her. But, he retreated to his room, collapsed onto the bed and spent the better part of the next hour trying desperately to relieve the tension in his body. Eventually, he fell asleep, exhausted, thinking of her and looking forward to tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Nice shot." Daryl was impressed. Carol had managed to hit an opossum scurrying across the trail. It had only taken one arrow and she'd hit it right through the gut. It lay still on the ground, and while just a couple years ago, the sight of the little creature lying there helpless would have probably brought a tear to her eyes, now, it just reminded her how hungry she was.

"Thanks," Carol replied with that brilliant smile.

"You sure you ain't never worked with a bow before?"

"Are you kidding?" she laughed. Daryl stuffed Carol's kill into a burlap sack and slung it over his shoulder. Carol was currently wiping off the arrow and putting it back with the others.. "I just have a really good teacher." She saw the smile turn up at his lips, and she nudged his shoulder with hers. He made his move then, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, and his heart soared. They walked quietly for a while, and Carol broke the silence with a little giggle.

"What?" he asked, his hand rubbing her arm. She shook her head, still laughing. "Tell me."

"I was just thinking," she laughed, "this must be what constitutes a first date in the apocalypse. I kill something for dinner, you carry it back for me. I think this is the equivalent of you carrying my books home from school." Daryl snorted, and Carol brushed her lips over his "Thanks for carrying my books."

"Oh, I'd be happy to let you carry it," he teased, holding the bag, now sticky with blood, out toward her.

"Stop!" she laughed, as he tossed the bag to the ground and drew her into his arms, kissing her, loving that each kiss was better than the last and that she wanted him to kiss her. His hands roamed over her wasit and her back, and her fingers threaded in his hair as their kiss deepeend.

She found herself backed up against the tree, her head leaning back as he sucked at her neck, and she moaned, gripping the back of his neck, her nails digging in just enough that he could really feel it. He groaned and kissed her lips again. When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes, his own dark with desire.

"Still want me to stop?" he asked, his eyes fixating on her lips. She shook her head breathlessly and mouthed her answer, but when he went to kiss her again, she stopped him, placing a finger over his lips.

"No, but we should get home." She bit her lip, blushing hard. "Storm's coming."

"You noticed that, too?" he asked, looking up at the sky..

"Wind's changing," she breathed with a nod. "And I really don't want to get wet."

"You sure?" he asked, his voice thick with desire. She gasped as his hand slid up the back of her shirt, his fingers grazing up her spine.

"Oh God," she murmured. "I..." His lips were on hers again, and she opened up to him hungrily, her tongue dancing with his, begging him for more. But when the thunder began to rumble, Daryl forced himself to pull back. "Okay, don't stop." She reached for him, but he captured her hand in his."

"This storm's comin' fast, and the temperature's droppin'. Let's get goin'." She nodded, catching her breath as Daryl picked up their kill and weapons that they'd scattered on the ground. Holding her hand in his, Daryl led her back toward the house, hoping they'd get back before they got too soaked . The last thing either of them needed was to come down with pneumonia.

The sky opened up, pouring rain down heavily onto the earth just as Daryl and Carol caught sight of the house. Carol cried out at the feeling of the cold rain on her skin, and Dayrl groaned, pulling his shoulders up, his face scrunched up at the miserable feeling of being cold and wet.

They rushed to the house, soaking wet before they even got on the porch. Daryl unlocked the door and ushered Carol in first. He locked the door behind them, and they gboth stood shivering and staring at each other in the foyer. Carol's jaw was trembling, and Daryl ran his hands up and down her slick, wet arms.

"Jesus, you're freezin'," he muttered, concern creasing his brow.

"Yeah, you are too," she said, chuckling his chin where water was beginning to drip from.

"C'mon." He took her hand and led her into the living room.. He grabbed the afghan off the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. Within a few minutes, he had a toasty fire blazing in the hearth, but she was still shaking. "Gotta get outta those wet clothes."

"Now Daryl Dixon," she teased through chattering teeth, "I don't put out on the first date."

"Stop," he groaned, realizing despite being freezing and soaking wet, his dick was already starting to get hard. "Alright, alright." He sighed and kissed her once more. "Go change. Go on." She msiled and took off toward the stairs and up to her room. Daryl followed slowly and retreated to his own room.

They met out in the hall a few minutes later, her wearing an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of comfortable grey pants, him wearing a flannel long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black sweats. She grinned at the sight of him in front of her, looking kind of like a farm hand. It was sexy and sweet, and she giggled again.

"What?"

"Aren't we a pair?" she asked, looking down at herself and then at him.

"Yeah, well, at least we're a pair who ain't gonna die of pneumonia, right?" he asked. She laughed and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again. Her hands rested on his chest, and he brought a hand up and curled his fingers with hers. When he pulled away, she sighed and rested her head on his chest as he stroked her back.

"We probably have a few things to talk about, hmm?" Carol asked after a few minutes.

"Guess so," he murmured, his hand coming to rest against her lower back.

"Well, it's as good a day as any, I guess," she said quietly. "I'll get the wine."

"Wine?" Daryl asked, pulling back and looking down into her eyes. "Where'd you find wine?"

"At the grocery store," she said with a smile. "It was a surprise."

"I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you," he said with a little chuckle, squeezing her hand.

"Haven't you been doing that already?" She saw him blush and it was one of the sexiest things she'd never seen.

"You saw that, huh?"

"It was kind of obvious," she giggled, kissing his chin and stroking his cheek with her fingertips. He pulled her in close again, stroking her back and inhaling that Carol scent that he loved so much. She hummed softly when his lips found a particular spot behind her ear that she never knew she could enjoy having kissed so much.

She trembled against him, and he pulled back a little.

"You ok?"

"Unbelievably," she whispered, biting her lip.

"C'mon," he murmured, taking her hand. He led her down the stairs and she followed, relishing the feel of his fingers clasping hers protectively. She felt lighter than air, and as silly as it might have seemed given the current state of the world, she felt happier than she'd been in a very long time.

When they got downstairs, the living room was dim and a little cool, so Daryl started a little fire in the hearth while Carol went to the kitchen to pour a couple of glasses of wine. Her stomach was all aflutter, and she couldn't control her racing heart as she thought of what they were about to talk about and what that talking might lead to.

She'd wanted this for a long time, she realized, but she hadn't allowed herself to truly open up to him. Some fear inside had kept her from going after what she wanted. She'd never made the best choices in her personal life, whether it was the friends she chose or the men she'd dated. But then she'd met Daryl, and he'd been there for her more than her own husband ever had been. And he'd cared for her, truly cared, and it was a bit scary to think of pushing past the lines of friendship with him and going somewhere both of them were both excited and scared of going. Their friendship was forever changed since that kiss last night, but if he was having the same thoughts she was having, there would be no turning back.

Her hand shook as she poured the wine, but she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and told herself to be brave. The storm was still going strong outside, and she jumped a little when a loud rumble of thunder shook the house. _So much for being brave._

Carol turned and carried the wine glasses into the living room where Daryl was on his knees in front of the fire. She paused in the doorway watching the way he stared into the fire, his shoulders rising and falling quickly, as if he was having trouble catching his breath. She realized then that he was just as nervous as she was, and that made her feel a little better.

"Wine?" Daryl turned to see her holding out a glass toward him. He'd never been much of a wine drinker. He much preferred the burn of whiskey or moonshine, but Carol was offering, wine was the only option, and he didn't care if it tasted like cat piss. If she was giving it to him, he wanted it.

"Thanks," he said quietly, taking the glass in his hand. Carol sat on the floor across from Daryl and took a sip from her glass. Daryl followed her lead and took a sip. He was surprised by the sweetness of it and even more surprised that he kind of liked it. Didn't taste anything like that crap Jenner had for them at the CDC, but back then, he'd have drank anything as long as it gave him a good buzz.

They eyed each other nervously for a few moments, and it was then that Carol set her glass aside and cleared her throat.

"Do I make you nervous?"

"What?"

"You kissed me earlier…you pushed me up against a tree." She blushed at the memory, and she saw the heat rising in his cheeks, too. "Is this too much?"

"Nah. I mean…I don't…" He grunted in frustration, trying to find the words. "You kinda make me crazy." Carol couldn't help but smile. "I never met nobody like you. You just..you just accepted me. I treated you pretty bad, and you still…"

"Wait…what are you talking about?" she asked, holding a hand up.

"After Sophia, I mean. I said some pretty awful things to ya, and…I didn't mean 'em."

"I know," Carol said quietly. "I was blaming myself. You were blaming yourself. But it wasn't anybody's fault. It's just…it's what happened." She reached over and put her hand over his. "You put up with a lot from me." She shrugged her shoulders, and he eyed her, wanting to protest, but he knew she had something to say. "When Ed died, I kind of froze for a while. I tried to take care of Sophia, but I wasn't ready to live in a world where I answered to myself and didn't have to worry about…" Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head, trying a different approach. "I let myself be a victim after Ed died. I put too much on you and Rick when Sophia went missing."

"You were scared."

"I was," she said with a nod, "but you went out there, more than once, and you risked yourself to try to find her. And I was so…frozen in place. When I wasn't crying in Dale's camper, I was doing busy work, trying not to think about my daughter being out there alone or worse." She sighed.

"You didn't put nothin' on nobody. Sophia was…she was part of the group. She was your little girl, and that meant she was important." He caught her gaze. "I didn't want you hurtin'. I wanted to give you somethin' to look forward to. I wanted to make you happy."

"Daryl?"

"When it was over…after Shane opened the barn and Rick shot Sophia…I thought…I thought maybe I coulda looked harder or somethin'. I'm sorry I took it out on you…said those things I said."

"You didn't say anything I wasn't already thinking. I think that's why it stung so much," she admitted. "But you didn't hurt me. Daryl, I told you this before, but you did more for my little girl than her father ever did. You barely knew me. You barely knew her. But you went out there, and you gave me hope." She smiled a little. She watched as he gazed into the fire, pondering her words, and she touched his hand. "So I make you crazy?" She caught a little grin at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah. Little bit. I like it."

"Oh, well, good to know," she laughed. They looked at one another, both uncertain of what to say or do next.

"That night I found you in solitary."

"What?"

"I think that's the night I knew," Daryl murmured, his gaze shifting from her eyes to the flames, uncertain of where he should look as the back of his neck tingled. He wasn't good with all this touchy feely talk, but he knew she liked it, and he wanted her to know these things when he thought of them.

Carol's lips parted, and she scooted closer to him, letting him know he had her full attention.

"I thought you were dead. I mean, we had a funeral for ya and everything. I remember sittin' there on the ground, and I heard ya movin' behind that door. I thought…hell, I didn't know what I thought. Thought it was a walker or…or worse…that you were that walker. I was gonna be the one to put ya down, and I didn't want to, but I didn't want ya to be like that." He looked up at her, and he saw the way her lower lip trembled just a bit, and she nodded. "When I opened that door and saw you were ok, I never…I never felt nothin' like I felt right then."

"I thought I was dead," she said with a little nod. "I thought I was dead and when I saw you, I was in some weird, prison version of heaven." She let out a little laugh. "But then you held me, and I realized I was safe." She grabbed her wine glass and took another sip. He did the same.

"What about you?" he asked quietly, almost in a whisper, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"What about me?" she echoed, taking a deep breath and looking into the fire. She smiled a little and laughed.

"What?"

"Well, there are two moments that stand out. There's the moment I realized I wanted to jump your bones and the moment I realized I was falling in love with you." The words fell between them, sparking like the whisps of embers cracking off the tongues of the flames. Daryl felt his face grow red, and Carol couldn't suppress a giggle. "Sorry, Pookie. I'm kind of direct sometimes."

"It's alright," he muttered.

"You like it?" she asked, her voice a little low, stirring things inside of him.

"Yeah," he replied. "So what was it?"

"The moment I realized I was falling for you?" she asked. He shifted nervously but nodded. "When you brought me that rose in the beer bottle." She grinned. He eyed her, remembering that moment all too clear. He'd never expected that would be what she'd said. Sure, it had been a nice gesture, but he'd stuck the damned thing in a beer bottle. "That was so sweet." Daryl ducked his head a little. "Yeah, yeah, I know, you're all uncomfortable with this praise, but you're a good man, Daryl, that that was one of the moments I knew I could trust you and that you wouldn't hurt me."

"What about the other?" he asked, again uncertain if he wanted to hear it. She smiled wide.

"The night the farm was overrun."

"What?"

"You came riding up on your bike like a knight in shining armor. You were filthy and…I don't know…almost feral. It was hot." Daryl looked at her like she'd grown another head. She laughed and covered her face. "What? I'm sorry! It was a huge turn on. I mean, I rode on the back of that bike with my face buried against your back, and I swear I came close to having an orgasm." Daryl nearly choked on the sip of wine he was in the process of drinking.

"Jesus Christ," he sputtered, wiping his mouth and putting his glass down.

"Sorry," she grinned, her cheeks red from embarrassment, but also because she felt a little warm just thinking about that ride, how she'd been pressed up against his back, his every muscle taut as he sped the hell away from the Greene farm and toward safety.

"Nah…don't apologize."

"Is this how I drive you crazy? Some of the things I say?"

"Yeah, but…I like it. I like the way ya make me feel." He blushed again.

"Even when I call you Pookie?"

"That's just 'cause ya like me a little, huh?"

"Yeah, a little," she laughed, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips. He pulled his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, and she moaned softly against his mouth. Before either of them knew it, he was laying on the rug holding her against him, and his hand was moving down her back and over her ass. She pushed her hips against his, feeling his dick straining against the fly of his jeans. She gasped softly, her hand coming between them, grazing over the bulge in his pants just enough that he had to push her back.

"Holy shit," he muttered, breaths coming in ragged gasps. "You have no idea what you do to me, woman." The growl in his voice was a major turn on, and it was all she could do to restrain herself from pushing him back down and making him hers.

The heat pooling between her legs was less obvious than his erection, but he certainly did things to her, too.

"I…uh, got condoms," he muttered, feeling like a complete asshole. "Upstairs." Carol looked up at him and licked her lips, her pulse racing as he moved his hands up her arms and neck, cradling the back of her head in his palm. His lips parted, and his tongue darted out, and Carol leaned in, bringing her mouth to his.

"Guess I'm not the only one with surprises, huh?" she asked, her hand curling into his shirt, pulling him closer. He groaned as she gently nibbled his bottom lip before moving to his neck, her tongue and lips doing things he hadn't felt a woman do in years.

"Ah, fuck," he muttered, his hand trailing up the back of her shirt and over her back. His fingers found the clasp of her bra. Still, next to that, he felt a small ridge on her skin just under where her bra started, and they both froze when he felt it. A scar. She trembled, and she kissed him softly before pulling back. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok. It's just…nobody's ever seen those scars before…just…just Ed." She pulled herself up, adjusting her shirt. "I'm sorry. God, I'm ruining this."

"No. It's fine," he whispered, reaching for her hand. She took it slowly, and he pulled her back down to him. She sat between his legs, her back resting against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, as if it was the most natural instinct in the world to hold her. "We all got scars. You ain't ready yet."

"I _feel_ ready. I thought I was. I want to, Daryl. I just…"

"I know. Me too," he murmured. "We don't gotta do nothin' you ain't ready for."

"God, you have no idea how wonderful you are without even trying." She felt the tears sting her eyes, and he nuzzled the back of her hair before brushing his lips over her cheek. He was a good man, but he wasn't a saint. He knew what he wanted, and he knew she wanted it too. But he wasn't willing to fuck up everything between them by pushing her too far too fast. He already knew she was worth the wait.

_Author's Note: Thanks everyone so much for the reviews so far! I have a question. Who would you like to see Daryl and Carol reunite with first? I'm wanting to have some sort of reunion with part of the group, and I'd like to see what characters you'd be interested in. Please let me know…I'd be happy to take any suggestions! __ Thanks!_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The storm had flooded the road, effectively isolating Carol and Daryl and preventing them from going out on any kind of supply run. Thankfully, they had plenty of food, water and whatever else they might need over the next couple of days as they waited for the water to recede.

For a couple of days after their conversation by the fire, Daryl and Carol had tried their best to give each other space and time to think about things. Still, they would inevitably catch one another and steal a few kisses. It was very new and very special, and neither one of them really knew what the hell they were doing. Neither one of them had exactly had a healthy relationship in their entire lives.

But they trusted each other. Daryl appreciated that Carol accepted him for who he was, flaws and all. And Carol was simply thankful that somehow, despite all the bad she'd endured, she had Daryl, who was like a breath of fresh air.

And despite their wanting to take things slow and really, truly be ready for the next step, it was getting more and more difficult. The more he kissed her, the more she wanted him to keep going. She knew the scar had startled him, but she also knew she wasn't the only one with scars. Slowly, they were both beginning to realize that despite all the bad that surrounded them every day, it was ok to hope for something good and to hold onto those moments with each other. This was the good part. They had to embrace it.

On the third evening after their talk, Carol was busying herself hanging their laundry out on the line when she felt those strong hands on her shoulders. Her skin warmed under his touch, and he pressed up against her. She sighed as he folded her into his arms, nuzzling her neck from behind. She could tell he'd just had a bath and had used some of those soaps she'd picked up for him at the pharmacy.

"You smell so good," she murmured, reaching back to stroke the back of his head. She arched her neck back to look into his eyes, and his gaze was fixed on her mouth. He licked his lips and leaned in, kissing her softly at first, but in moments, she opened up to him, and his arms tightened around her.

With one arm firmly around her, he brought the other hand up to her neck, stroking her there, feeling her pulse under his fingers. She gasped when that hand moved down, dipping under the neck of her shirt. His fingers grazed the tops of her breasts that peeked out from her bra. She moaned against his lips, her nipples turning into hard little pebbles under the soft padding.

She arched into his touch, moaning when he tucked his finger into her bra, grazing the nipple with his nail. She gasped, and he turned her cheek with his free hand, seeking out her lips again. She finally grabbed his other hand, placing it over her other breast through her shirt. She leaned into him, panting as his hands explored her. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and she needed to feel more of him.

Her knees felt like jelly, and she hooked one arm back around his neck, anchoring herself as he touched her, teasing her breasts, making her wonder what had gotten into him.

"Daryl," she panted as his lips and tongue caressed her neck again, "please." He pulled her tighter to him, and she could feel his erection straining in his jeans, putting pressure against her ass. She gasped, shifting her hips and grinding against him briefly. She heard a choking gasp escape his throat and finally turned in his arms, attacking his mouth with her own. He stumbled backward, his arms pulling her closer to him, crushing her chest against his.

Her hands were under his shirt, stroking his sides and his stomach, and his muscles jumped under her touch. She smiled against his lips, making a mental note that Daryl Dixon was ticklish. He grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands back from him, and she smiled when they broke their kiss. His eyes were dark with passion, and her lips were bright and tingly from his kisses.

Her hands snaked up his arms, and she ran her fingers through his hair. Her lips grazed his chin, his beard scratching her a little. She giggled when his hands stroke her back in feather light touches, sending chills up and down her spine.

"We should stop," he groaned, when her hand rested on the buckle of his belt.

"We should," she echoed, nodding a little, chewing her bottom lip. He chucked her chin a little, just enough that she looked up into his eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a little smile, and she fell into him, kissing him, touching him, wanting him to touch her back and keep touching her forever.

He walked backward with her, and in a moment, the back of his knees smacked into a heavy lounge chair on the patio. The chair made an awful scraping noise when they tumbled back onto it. She fell onto him, pinning him to the chair, her lips working over his hungrily.

She was suddenly very aware that she was laying on top of him and that his erection had no intention of going away. She pulled back, looking down at him. His face was flushed, and his long hair was in his eyes. She brushed it out of the way and grinned at him.

"What?" he asked, his voice low and gruff. Her heart swelled in that instant, looking down at him, seeing what she did to him, the way he craned his neck up, seeking her lips. She kissed him softly and pulled back again.

"I love you," she whispered. She'd felt it for a long time, but she hadn't said it until now. Why now on this perfectly sunny day while they lay on a particularly uncomfortable piece of patio furniture? She had no idea. But she wanted to say it, and once she had, she felt lighter than air.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted.

"I don't expect you to say it…I just wanted you to know."

"Woman, will you be quiet?" he asked, his hands gripping her hips. He arched up and kissed her before resting his head against the back of the chair. He looked up at her, watched as she held her breath in anticipation, and he caressed her cheek. "I love you." And she was undone. She kissed him again, her tongue begging for entrance into his mouth. He opened up to her, and just as she was beginning to press into him again, a sound from nearby startled them both.

"Daryl!" Carol yelled as she looked up and toward the house to see a walker coming around from the front. Daryl followed her gaze.

"Fuck!" he yelled, as they scrambled up. Carol pulled a knife from her boot, and Daryl grabbed an axe that rested up against an old tree stump. He went first, splitting the walker's head right open. The axe stuck, and he struggled to pull it out but managed just in time to take down another walker. Four more were coming around from the side of the house, and they quickly realized it was a herd.

"There's too many," Carol called. "Come on!" She plunged her knife into the eye of one walker that got too close, ripping the back of her shirt and she and Daryl took off toward a large oak. A small tree house seemed to be their only salvation at this point.

Carol was the first to climb up the rope ladder. It looked half rotten and she prayed it held until they made it to the top. She was the first to climb up into the treehouse, and Daryl followed quickly, handing up his weapon to her before pulling himself up the rest of the way. They pulled the rope ladder up after them and stared down as a dozen zombies clawed at the tree bark down below. Breathing heavily, they collapsed against the floor and wondered how the hell they were going to get out of this mess.

Daryl suddenly remembered that a walker had gotten close to Carol, tearing at her shirt, and his stomach felt heavy as a rock as a cold dread washed over him.

"Sit up," he said gruffly. She did as he said, and he moved behind her, examining the rip in her shirt and the skin underneath. Carol trembled as his eyes scrutinized her skin, checking for bites, gashes, cuts, anything. When she felt him rest his forehead against her shoulder from behind, she breathed a sigh of relief. "You're ok. You're ok." She turned to him, pressing her hand to his cheek.

"Nine lives, remember?" she asked, eyes sparkling. If he hadn't been so scared in that moment, he'd have smiled, but he relaxed when she kissed him. She was tender and careful at first, as if she was making sure he was ok.

He pulled her in close, and he fell back, pulling her on top of him. She sighed softly against his lips as his hands slowly caressed her back. She pressed her hips into him, moaning softly at the feeling of being so close to him. His hands were under her shirt again, and he could feel those tiny scars, but this time, she didn't freeze or pull away.

He sat up with her in his lap, and she wrapped her legs around him, holding on to him. He cradled her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.

"We don't gotta do this," he murmured, his fingers softly stroking the skin down her spine. "I can wait."

"You must be the most patient man alive, Daryl Dixon," she chuckled, leaning her forehead against his. He was about to help her slide off of his lap, but she had other plans in mind. Instead, she moved her hands to his shirt, unbuttoning the thin fabric. His hands caught her wrists, and he sought her eyes with his.

"Hey. Look at me." Her gaze drifted from his buttons to his eyes. "You sure?" She nodded, bringing her arms around his neck.

"I don't want to waste anymore time," she whispered. "I love you." Daryl swallowed hard at her words and leaned in to kiss her again. They eased into it, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms. This kind of comfort had been a long time coming for both of them, and to be together like this was something that couldn't quite be put into words.

Her hands moved back to the buttons of his shirt, and this time, he only stopped her to ask her to lift her arms, which she did, and he slipped her shirt over her head. She gasped at the feeling of the cool breeze on her skin, and he kissed her neck, his fingers roaming down her spine.

She finished with the buttons of his shirt and it fell open, exposing his chest. She smiled, pushing the shirt off of his shoulders, and it slid off of his arms. She leaned down, kissing his bare shoulder, her tongue darting out to taste his skin. His skin felt on fire under her touch, and he leaned down, kissing the flesh above her breasts. She arched into him, her head leaning back. His mouth moved up her neck and sought her lips again, and he started to unclasp her bra. He pulled back a little, catching her gaze, and she gave him a little nod.

Within a moment, her bra came free and slid down her arms, exposing her breasts to him. She was perfect. He liked his women real, and Carol was as real as they come. She was small but there was enough there he could get a good handful. Her nipples were perfect little rosebuds, and his cheeks flushed red at the thought of tasting her. His gaze shifted from her breasts to her eyes, and she seemed to know exactly what he wanted.

"It's ok," she murmured. "Please. I want you to." She threw her head back when she felt the heat of his mouth surround her nipple, his tongue circling her, his teeth nipping her.

Jesus, she tasted better than anything he could remember. The salt of her skin mixed with the sweet scent of cranberry soap completely overwhelmed his senses. His hand moved to stroke her other breast, and Carol began to squirm in his lap, her body trembling. He could feel her heart beating wildly under his fingertips.

Her hands coasted down his chest and over his stomach, pulling at his belt buckle. He groaned, moving his mouth to her other breast while her fingers undid his belt and reached for his button. He moved back a little, letting her work, watching as her delicate fingers slipped under the waist of his pants and then back out, undoing the button. Her knuckles brushed over his erection through his jeans, and he hissed out a breath through his teeth. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire now, her lips parted just enough that he imagined her mouth on him.

His hips jumped when she unzipped him and reached into his underwear, circling his shaft with her fingers.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured, feeling like he might come right then and there.

"Is this ok?" she asked, kissing his chin and then his neck.

"Yeah. Yeah." What the hell else could he say? She had her hand around him, and it was the best feeling in the world, next to being inside of her, he imagined. She pulled him out, her mouth twitching in a smile as she took in the size of him, the shape of him. He was beautiful. And she began to stroke him, a little uncertainly, having never had much experience at this. But she wanted him to feel good, and judging by the way his breath was coming in ragged gasps and his eyes screwed shut and his head leaned back, he was feeling pretty good.

She let go of him long enough to tug at his jeans, moving them down his hips. He realized what she wanted and scooted her off his lap.

"Here," he murmured, standing up, kicking off his boots, and sliding his jeans and underwear off of his legs. He stood before her, completely naked, and he realized that she still had entirely too many clothes on. The way she looked at him, her tongue darting out between her lips and her cheeks flushing red made him feel like a man; made him feel good. He knelt down next to her, pushing her back to lay against the floor of the treehouse. "Your turn." He started with her boots, unlacing them and sliding them off her feet. Her socks came next. He took his time, and he watched her squirm and reach out for him. A smile quirked up at the corner of his mouth when he started for the button of her jeans. She bucked her hips, wanting contact, and he unbuttoned and unzipped her, sliding her jeans off her legs. His fingers ghosted over the thin fabric of her panties, feeling that they were slightly damp. _Jesus fuck, she's wet already_.

He crawled over her, kissing her stomach, feeling her shaking under him. His hands caressed her sides and up her breasts, and he heard her gasp when he touched her again through the fabric of her panties. He crawled up, framing her hips with his, stroking her hair and kissing her chin.

"Tell me," he whispered, needing absolute assurance that this was ok. He didn't want her to have any regrets. She bit her lip, her hips shooting forward at the feel of his fingers through the fabric of her cotton panties. He slipped a finger inside, testing the waters, and she groaned, her eyes rolling back a little as he touched her most sensitive flesh. He inserted one finger inside, and she was slick and ready.

"I need you," she breathed. "Inside me. Now." They'd have plenty of time to explore one another later. Right now, all she needed was to feel him inside of her, filling her, being as close as they could be.

At the risk of completely ruining the moment, he offered his next words.

"Don't have a condom. Didn't think I'd need one today, ya know?" Carol leaned in, kissing him softly.

"It's ok. Just kiss me."

"Alright," he assured her, kissing her hungrily, his hands tugging at her panties. She raised her hips and let him slide them off of her. His hand gently stroked the soft curls there, his thumb seeking out that little bud. When he found it, she cried out at his touch, her hands grabbing his shoulders, nails digging in. He grabbed his erection in one hand, lining up with her entrance, and he slowly began to push in. She bit her cries into his neck, and he gasped at the feeling of her sex stretching around his tip, so wet and warm.

He sunk into her, filling her, squeezing his eyes shut tight and resting his head on her shoulder, trying to focus, trying not to end it before it began. But the feeling of her wrapped around him, her muscles contracting as he forced himself to hold on…it was almost too much.

When the world stopped spinning, he raised his head and looked into her eyes. She was biting her lip and trying to hold on for him. He gathered all the strength he had left in him and began to move, watching the way she threw her head back, the way her chest heaved as she fought for breath. He wanted to see for himself what he did to her.

"Daryl," she murmured, "please. Please." She hooked a leg around his hip and he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily. Her hands dug into his hair, and she gasped into his mouth as he began a steady rhythm, pushing into her as his fingers stroked her, setting her nerves on fire.

They moved together, lost in the feel of each other. She cried as he pushed in and out of her, pulling her closer to him, and she grasped at his shoulders and his arms trying to hold on, trying to brace herself as his thrusts grew faster and harder, and she cried out, encouraging him. To feel as full as she felt with him inside of her was intoxicating, and she couldn't understand how it had taken them this long to get to this place. She wasn't certain she would ever be able to get enough.

The way he held her, kissing her as he made love to her made her feel things she'd never felt before. He was a man, but he made it all about her. He wanted her to feel good; to feel wanted.

"Fuck, I'm gonna…" He panted against her neck, kissing her there again as her body shuddered and she rode out an orgasm that seemed to have been building up since the day they met. She cried out, her nails scraping his back, her back arching, pressing into him. Her muscles squeezed him, and for a moment, everything went black for him. As she went over the edge, she pulled him with her, and he came, spilling inside of her.

Moments later, he was rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. She rested her head on his chest for the longest time, and he stroked her hair. They lay in silence, listening to the sound of their breathing returning to normal.

She finally lifted her head, her eyelids heavy, and she smiled a sleepy smile. He couldn't help but grin back at her.

"What?"

"You," she murmured, kissing him. "I love you."

"Mmm, me too," he murmured against her lips. His hand came to rest on the back of her neck, stroking her there. She laughed when he began kissing her neck, his tongue dipping out to taste her.

"That tickles!"

"Good to know," he teased. She started to get up, but he pulled her back down on him. "Where you goin'?"

"I'm cold," she said with a grin. Daryl looked around. The only downside of having sex in a tree house was that there weren't any blankets around.

"Well, c'mere," he grumbled, pulling his arms around her. "I'll keep ya warm."

"What a gentleman." She kissed his cheek. "But seriously…how the hell are we getting out of this?" She motioned downward, indicating the fact that they still had a dozen walkers to evade. Daryl groaned, coming bacvk to reality, and he moved to look over the edge, peering down to see the walkers still desperately scratching at the tree bark.

"Shit," he muttered, having a sudden craving for a cigarette. He reached for Carol's clothes and tossed them to her. She laughed, and they both began to dress, both feeling a little awkward now. They dressed in silence, and Daryl turned to look out and figure out their options. As he was making plans, he felt her arms circle around his waist. She pressed against the back of him, resting her head on his back.

"Today meant…it meant a lot," she whispered. "I just wanted you to know that." He turned, pulling his arms around her and kissing the top of her head. He said nothing. He didn't have to. She knew what it had meant for him. He couldn't put it into words. She was the only person he'd ever loved so much that he wanted to hold and to talk to and to just be with all the time. Carol was that person for him. He'd be happy to just sit with her and be with her, but he knew now what it was like to actually be _with_ her, and there was no way he was ever going to forget.

"Stay with me tonight," he said quietly, caressing her side as he held her against him. She nuzzled his neck and hummed a soft reply, closing her eyes and feeling peace for few moments. "You ready?"

"I guess I have to be, right?" Daryl gave her a chaste kiss on the lips before grabbing the axe, lowering the rope latter and starting down toward the snarling walkers below.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Carol and Daryl practically collapsed on one another when they reached the house. They'd managed to fight off and put down the walkers, but it had taken what energy they'd had and left them feeling completely drained.

They didn't want to think about the trail of corpses leading from the tree house to the back patio. They didn't want to think about the fact that they were going to have to set up a strong perimeter to ensure this didn't happen again. They didn't care that it was so dark now that they could barely see to move around the house. All they cared about was sleep. Well…maybe a little more than sleep.

After cleaning up at the water pump outside, it was getting dark, so they made their way into the house and up the stairs, leaning on one another. Carol stopped at her bedroom door, and Daryl looked over at her from his.

"You go in. I'll be there in a minute," she assured him. Daryl nodded tiredly, and Carol moved into room, shutting the door behind her. She sighed tiredly and leaned against the door, closing her eyes and replaying the day's events in her head. Her heart raced at the thought of it. Not the part with the blood and the violence and the rotting corpses chasing after them. All she could think about was Daryl and how amazing their afternoon together had been—without the walkers, of course—and how her stomach was tied up in knots at the idea of going to him and sleeping in his arms.

She quickly stripped out of her clothes and put on a fresh pair of panties. She grabbed a flashlight and fished out a pair of black shorts and an oversized red top from the dresser. She shined the light over herself, staring at the image of herself in the mirror. She blushed seeing tiny purple marks on her breasts. Never in her life had she had a hickey, let alone _there_, but the idea that Daryl had done that to her was exciting.

Shivering in the cool room, she finally pulled the fresh clothes on and left the room, padding across the hall quietly, as if she was sneaking in. When she opened the door, he stood there wearing nothing but a loose fitting pair of sweats. Candle light flickered around the room, and the sight of him kind of took her breath away.

"Hey," he said quietly, motioning for her to come in. She smiled, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. She knew there was really no reason to be behind closed doors, but she liked the idea of having him all to herself and shutting out the rest of the miserable world. In the solitude of this room, it was just her and Daryl and nothing else mattered.

Daryl stood awkwardly next to the bed, and for a moment, it was as if they hadn't just spent time in a tree house, naked, making love to each other. This time, they were safe and sound, and it was so quiet that the only sound was the creak of the floorboards as Carol crossed the room toward him.

She gave him that soft smile that he loved so much, and she reached for his hand. They stood together for a moment before Carol leaned in, pressing her lips against his. The back of his neck tingled when she stroked him there. Suddenly, sleep was the last thing on his mind.

Her arms circled around his neck, and he pulled at her hips, bringing her closer. Their kiss deepened, Daryl's tongue sliding along her lips, her mouth parting for him. She moaned, relishing the taste of him, memorizing the way his lips captured hers and his teeth gently grazed her bottom lip. There was nothing like kissing him. Carol sighed softly, melting into his embrace, wishing for nothing but the feeling of him this close to her all night.

Daryl stroked her hair, breaking the kiss only to press his lips to that spot behind her ear that made her moan. He kissed her neck and her bare shoulder as her shirt hung loosely off of it. She smiled and arched her neck, giving him more room to work with, and he kissed along her neck and back behind her ear again. She moaned softly when his hand moved down her back, gently cupping her ass and pulling her closer.

She pulled back a little just to look into his eyes, those beautiful, blue eyes she'd always had a soft spot for. She stroked his cheek with her hand, and he turned his head, kissing the pads of her fingers. Never in a million years would she have guessed that Daryl Dixon would be so romantic without even trying. The image of his hair swept into his eyes as he clasped her hand in his and kissed the back of it so softly was almost too much. Just a week ago, she'd been trying to accept that she might never see him again. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back.

"You ok?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yeah. I'm good." She smiled again and kissed his lips. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, his hands moving to grip her hips softly. He tugged at her, pulling her closer.

"For coming back for me," she murmured. They sat down on the bed, and he placed his hand on her thigh, eyeing her for any indication that it wasn't ok. She placed her hand over his, and he relaxed.

"I ain't ever losin' you again. And you gotta promise me you ain't gonna leave."

"Why would I leave?" she asked, her brow creasing in concern. He shrugged his shoulders and gave her thigh a little squeeze.

"Dunno. Just seems when things are good like this, they don't last long." Carol felt her heart break a little and she squeezed his hand.

"Hey," she murmured. Daryl met her gaze. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." She leaned in, kissing his lips quickly. "Promise." He leaned toward her, leaning his forehead against hers for a minute, breathing a soft breath of relief. "Daryl." She pulled back, taking his chin in her hands, making him look at her. "I love you." She placed her hand on his bare chest. He nodded. "You believe that, right?"

"'Course I do," he replied, laying back on the bed, pulling her on top of him.

"Good," she grinned, kissing his nose. He raised his face, catching her lips with his own, kissing her in a powerful, claiming way. The silent implication was that she was his and he was hers, and that was the most beautiful thing to her, even if did make her stomach feel like a bundle of nerves.

When Carol pulled back and stared down into his eyes, she caught a little grin slipping over his lips.

"What?"

"You gonna move in with me, or what?" he asked.

"Move in with you? Daryl Dixon, you mean to tell me you're ready to shack up after one roll in the hay."

"Hay? Weren't no hay in the tree house," he joked, his heart skipping a beat when he made her laugh. He realized that he always wanted to make her laugh, seeing that smile and the crinkle of her nose.

"Besides, we already live together."

"Don't want you across the hall," he replied, tightening his arms around her waist. "Want ya here with me." He kissed her chin and then her neck. She sighed and leaned into him.

"Well," she whispered, "that's definitely an intriguing idea."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm."

"I got good ideas, sometimes, ya know?" he said with a chuckle. She giggled when his hand moved under her shirt and up her back.

"I'll have to remember that," she laughed, her lips grazing over his chin and down to his neck. She explored him, reveling at the feel of his stubble against her cheek. He moaned when her hand moved between them and stroked his stomach. His muscles jumped under her touch, and she grinned, softly biting his earlobe.

"Damn, woman. What're you tryin' to do to me?" She answered him with a passionate kiss, dipping her tongue between his lips. Her hand caressed his chest, her fingers circling his nipples, and he had the strangest thought that no woman had ever done that to him before. But fuck, it felt good. Carol sensed this when he tensed and moaned, and she looked up at him with a devilish gleam in her eye. _Oh, fuck._

She kissed his lips again, only briefly, before kissing her way down his neck and chest. Her cheeks flushed pink when she flicked her tongue out over his nipple and he gasped as if he'd been burned. She looked up at him, searching his eyes, watching as he lay his head back against the pillow, clearly ok with the route she was taking.

He placed one hand on the back of her head, stroking her soft hair, and she took one of his nipples between her teeth, gently tugging on it.

His dick was standing at attention in his sweatpants, and it was more than obvious to the eye. He groaned when she kissed him lower, moving down his abdomen, her tongue tracing that little patch of hair that led straight down.

"Fuck," he groaned, when her hand grazed over his erection. It had been a long time since he'd had a blow job, and he wondered for a moment if Carol had ever given one before. He wondered if that was something Ed had forced her to do and that she hated it. But all thoughts flew out of his head when she reached into his pants, grabbing his dick and pulling it out. She let go of him, and his dick bobbed in front of her, the head a reddish purple color, a vein running along the underside.

She took him in her hand again, stroking him, feeling very powerful. Her eyes darkened with desire, and when his hips bucked at the sensation of her squeezing and stroking him, she smiled, desperately wanting to taste him.

"Tell me," she whispered, her lips parting, her breath hitting his dick. He made some sort of noise that almost sounded like a whimper, and she knew she was doing exactly what he wanted.

"Carol, fuck," he groaned.

"You want this?" she asked, leaning forward, her mouth barely an inch from his tip.

"Yeah. Please, Carol. Aw, fuck," he groaned, writhing on the bed as her hand continued stroking him. Satisfied, she took him into her mouth, sliding the tip just past her lips, swirling her tongue around the head. Daryl sucked in a sharp breath, and Carol moaned softly, sending a vibration straight through him. _Fuck, she's tryin' to kill me._

Her other hand moved to cup his balls, giving them a firm but gentle squeeze. His hips bucked again, pushing his dick further into her mouth. She almost gagged but held her control over him by gripping the base of his dick. Her eyes flashed up to meet his, and he gave her a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," he muttered, before his head fell back again, and she massaged him with her tongue. She slid up on him, releasing the tip from her mouth before running her tongue along the vein that ran down the length of him. He gripped the bed sheets, and he felt his balls tighten. "I'm gonna…"

"Shh," she whispered, kissing the space between his belly button and his groin. She pumped him with her hand a few times, the tip glistening with a drop of come. She ran her thumb over it and brought her thumb to her mouth, sucking it between her fingers. His mouth fell open and he nearly came at the sight of her tasting him. She looked thoughtful for a moment before she leaned back down, taking him back into her mouth.

"Oh shit," he groaned. She squeezed his balls again and sucked up the length of him, releasing the head with a little pop before enveloping him again. She fucked him with her mouth a few more moments before she felt a warm spray of come hit the back of her throat. It startled her at first, but she swallowed it down, continuing to suck him until his orgasm was over.

When he was through, she released him and crawled back up to lay atop him, stroking his hair out of his face. When his breathing started to return to normal, he opened his eyes to find her smiling at him.

"You're amazing," he murmured, stroking her hair. Her smile brightened, and she kissed his lip softly.

"You're not so bad, yourself." She giggled and rested her head against his shoulder.

"You tired?"

"Not even remotely. Not anymore," she laughed.

"Good," he grumbled, pushing back on her shoulders so she rolled off of him and onto the bed. She gasped as he crawled over her, kissing her hungrily, his tongue tasting hers. He'd never tasted himself in a woman's mouth before. It was odd, but kind of hot at the same time to think she'd taken it all down without even batting an eyelash.

He felt oddly uncomfortable now with his pants around his hips, so he pulled them up, stuffing himself back in.

"What're you doing?" she asked. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Fair's fair. It's your turn now," Daryl murmured, kissing her neck.

"Oh," she said softly, her eyes widening a bit, her lips curling up in a grin. Daryl nudged her knees apart and settled between them. He lifted her shirt just slightly and kissed her stomach. She giggled at the feeling of his beard scratching her, and he looked up at her.

"C'mon now, I can't do _this_ if you're gonna be gigglin' the whole time."

"Sorry," she laughed, trying to keep a straight face. "Your beard tickles." He ran his hand over his chin, making a mental note to shave in the morning.

His fingers tugged at her shorts, pulling them down over her hips. He slid them off of her legs and began to tug at her panties. She gasped a little, suddenly not feeling so giggly. She sucked in a sharp breath, her body beginning to tremble. He felt her legs shaking and looked up at her. He suddenly saw the nervous way she bit her lip and the flush of her cheeks.

"Nobody's ever done this for ya?" She shook her head awkwardly. "Jesus, not even…"

"No. He didn't like it," she murmured, not wanting to even think about Ed, much less say his name. "He never even tried with me." Daryl shook his head, inhaling her intoxicating scent.

"He didn't know what he was missin'." He kissed the inside of her thigh, and she practically melted into a puddle. "Don't worry. You'll love it." She loved the confident tone of his voice, and it made her even wetter. She moaned softly when he slid her panties off of her legs and settled down to kiss her stomach again, dipping his tongue into her naval. She bit her lip, arching her back, raising her hips up toward him.

He kissed the soft skin above her curls, and finally, he tasted her. When his tongue dipped inside her folds and trailed up her slit, she felt like she was going to explode. She'd never felt anything quite so intense before, and the way he moved his tongue around her told her he knew exactly what she was doing, and she found that extremely hot.

"Oh my God!" she cried out, her hips thrusting forward when his tongue circled her clit. She pulled the pillow out from under her head, burying her cries in it. Her legs were still shaking, and he brought one hand up to gently stroke her stomach as he used two fingers from his other hand to delve inside of her, opening her up. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, and within a moment, he could taste a small rush of liquid coating his tongue. His fingers busied themselves circling her clit and stroking her slick folds.

The taste of her consumed him. She tasted better than he could ever have imagined, and as he fucked her with his tongue, he felt his dick harden in his pants. She was hot and wet, and he wanted so badly to bury himself in her, but he wanted her to come like this first. He wanted her to enjoy being eaten out, because he very much wanted to do this again. More than that, he wanted her to want it.

"Daryl!" she cried out, her heart pounding, her clit throbbing, her inner muscles squeezing in that way she was slowly re-familiarizing herself with. "Oh God…" She arched back, shoving her hips forward. He gripped her thighs, holding her down onto the mattress, his tongue working quickly, expertly, bringing her toward the brink.

When she came, he felt his beard grow sticky with her juices, and he lapped at her, savoring and memorizing the taste. He rested his head on her stomach, waiting for her to come back to earth. When he felt the rise and fall of her chest slow, he looked up at her, and she was smiling that bright smile, staring up at the ceiling, her lips pursed as she breathed out a long, relaxing breath.

"Oh my God," she breathed, her voice husky and low. "Oh my God." He felt a strong surge of pride knowing that he'd been the first to do that for her, and she clearly enjoyed herself. "I never knew it would be that good." His dick twitched in his pants. She was the only woman who had ever made him feel like a real man. This was new, and he liked the idea that she was open to going places with him that she'd never been.

"You ok?" he asked her, scooting onto his side and moving up to lay next to her. He faced her, stroking her cheek.

"That was incredible," she panted. "You're amazing." He couldn't help but smile. He wasn't used to this kind of praise. "That was…oh my God." She covered her face with her hands, blushing wilding. He took her wrists in his hands and pulled her hands from her face. She crinkled her nose at him, her cheeks still bright.

"Hey," he said softly, leaning in to kiss her briefly. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "You're beautiful." She sighed, leaning in to kiss him hungrily, her hands pulling at his shoulders, pulling him close to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in, memorizing the way she fit so perfectly in his arms, her naked body curled up against his. It was in this moment that he knew he was never going to get enough of her, and he was ok with that.

Before either of them knew what hit them, they were drifting off to sleep, content with being in each other's arms and finally having solace in knowing they had each other. Whatever else happened, they had each other, and that was all that mattered.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Daryl woke first to find Carol curled up at his side, completely naked with goose bumps all over her skin. He quickly covered her with a blanket and leaned in to kiss her forehead. She shifted slightly in her sleep but didn't wake. He lay there facing her, watching her sleep, and she looked so happy.

He knew she was normally a restless sleeper, sometimes having dreams so bad she'd cry. He remembered that from the nights at the prison when he'd walk past her cell and hear her crying. He'd go to her, only to realize she was crying in her sleep, probably completely unaware of what she was crying about. But this morning, she was peaceful, and she looked more relaxed than he'd ever seen her.

His heart swelled as he thought of their last couple of days. Aside from the rotting walkers they'd had to fight off, he'd been happier than he could ever remember being. He 'd never known loving a woman could make him feel like this. In some ways, he felt like a whole other person. In other ways, he felt exactly like himself. Carol let him be himself, and he was forever grateful that she accepted him just the way he was, flaws and scars and baggage and all.

The only thing he could think about, staring into her sleeping face, was that he'd finally found a home. She was his home. She was what mattered most, and he wasn't going to lose her for anything. He turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about how he'd left the prison and how he never intended to go back. He couldn't help but wonder what the old group was up to or if they were even still alive. He felt a little guilty for not feeling guilty that he'd left.

He had come to think of many of them as family. Rick had become like a brother to him. In some ways, he had a better relationship with Rick than he'd ever had with his own flesh and blood brother, Merle. But when it came to Carol, there was no forgiving what Rick had done. It still made him angry to think about it all. The way he just tossed her out there on her own was unacceptable, especially the underhanded way he'd gone about it, knowing it had to happen when Daryl was away.

He suddenly felt her hand on his chest, and he turned to face her.

"Where are you?" she asked sleepily. He put his hand over hers, curling her fingers in his.

"Nowhere. Just here, I guess." She frowned a little, curling up closer to him. "Just thinking about some things."

"You ok?" she asked, stroking his wiry chest hair.

"Yeah," he assured her. "You're here, so I'm great."

"I told you I wasn't going anywhere," she replied, a smile spreading over her lips. "I meant that."

"Good," he said, kissing her softly. She laughed a little and pulled back. "What?"

"I have to brush my teeth." She covered her mouth with her hand and started to get out of the bed. He pulled her back to him.

"A little mornin' breath never killed nobody," he said with a mischevious smile on his face.

"Yeah, well, you could use a mint, too, you know."

"Well, _you_ know the last thing I ate." Her mouth fell open, and she slapped his shoulder playfully.

"Daryl Dixon!" She started out of the bed again, but he tugged at her waist.

"C'mere, woman," he growled, pinning her down to the mattress, kissing her properly. She moaned against his lips, relaxing as he crawled over her, his body pressing against hers in that perfect way that made her feel as if nothing else in the world mattered but this.

Her body felt like it was on fire, as he lay against her, his bare chest against hers. Her fingers grazed his hip bones above his sweat pants, and he sucked at her collarbone. She sighed contentedly when his hand softly grazed her breast, and she arched her neck into his kisses. His hand moved between them, stroking her folds, a finger dipping in to caress that sensitive bud. She gasped, her body already reacting to his motions. Her nipples peaked into hard little pebbles, and his fingers were covered in a slick coating of fluids. He loved the fact that she was so wet for him, and he'd barely even touched her.

It wasn't long before he was hard as a rock, and he quickly discarded his pants to join the pile with her clothes on the floor. He reached into the drawer of the bedside table, and she watched him curiously as he pulled out the box of condoms. He fumbled with the wrapper, figuring it was only the polite thing to do to put it on, considering they'd completely skipped that step earlier today. He fidgeted with it until he had it sheathed over his dick. She smiled when he fell back over her, framing her face with his hands, kissing her softly as if telling her she was all that mattered in the world.

She opened up to him, taking his tongue in her mouth, loving him the way he loved her. She spread her legs, feeling the weight of him against her hips, and she moaned when he pushed at her, slowly urging himself inside.

Her head fell back against the bed at the feeling of him filling her, thick and strong. He groaned, burying his face in her neck as he pushed himself all the way in, her pussy liquid fire around his sensitive dick. She stroked his back, and he began to move.

The moved together, a tangle of limbs and sweat, gripping one another, exploring, embracing, tasting. She bit her cries into his neck, and he couldn't help but think _Claimed_ when she did, as if she was telling him he was hers, and he was ok with that.

Somehow, she gained leverage and rolled him onto his back so she was on top, adjusting herself over him, slipping back on, her knees framing his hips as she began to ride him. The feeling was something he hadn't expected, and he held onto her hips as if holding onto something for dear life just so he wouldn't fall apart.

She rested her hands on his chest, moving up and down the length of him, slowly at first, drawing pleasure from the look of complete bliss on his face. And when his hand moved between her legs and he slipped his fingers against her, feeling the way her body took him in so perfectly, he circled that sweet nub with his fingers and watched her shoulders shudder at the pleasure.

"Daryl," she groaned, throwing her head back, riding out the wave of an orgasm. She clenched around him so tightly he thought he might lose complete control, and when her pussy pulsed, his fingers dug into her hips, and he growled, flipping her back over and pounding himself into her. She cried out, circling her legs around his hips as he finished, bringing her to another orgasm before his own hit him like a tidal wave.

When it was over, he rested his head against her breasts, feeling the pound of her heart against his ear, and he wondered if they wouldn't even leave the bed all day. He'd be satisfied staying in this room all day. Fuck food. Fuck water. He just wanted Carol.

"Thank God!" Carol exclaimed with a bright smile as she leaned back against the car seat and stretched her legs out. Daryl glanced at her as he drove down the road with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on Carol's thigh. The flood waters had finally receded enough that they could get out.

"What, you tired of being cooped up with me?" he asked, a grin sliding up one side of his mouth.

"Tired of being cooped up? Yes. With you? Never." She leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. He squeezed her thigh, and she felt heat pooling at her center. She eyed him, wondering for a second if she could get away with putting his hand down her pants, but she didn't want him to wreck the car trying to get her off.

"We'll start with the houses on Monroe Street," Daryl planned. "Put an X on the doors we looked through so we don't go to 'em twice."

"Sounds like a good idea," Carol said with a nod. "Never know, we might find some more condoms. Those can't be the last ones in the world." Daryl felt his dick twitch. They'd already used three that morning. One box wasn't going to last long with the two of them. "Of course, I'm not completely against not using them." Her voice was low and sultry, and when her hand moved up his thigh and boldly pressed against his groin, he slammed on the brakes, putting the car in park.

"Jesus," he growled. "You're gonna make me wreck the fuckin' car." He pulled her into his lap, and she squealed as his hand grabbed her ass.

"Sorry, Pookie," she giggled as he kissed her neck. His hands moved up her shirt, and he was more than happy to discover she wasn't wearing a bra. He eyed her. "Just thought it might get in the way."

"Easy access," he grunted. "I like it." She laughed again and buried her face in his neck as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Suddenly she wasn't laughing, and he was unzipping her pants, only to discover she wasn't wearing panties either. "Holy shit."

She moaned when he rubbed her through the jeans, and she felt herself getting wet when he groaned in frustration, unable to get his hand inside her pants.

"Here," she moaned softly, spinning around to sit facing forward on his lap, leaning her back against his chest. He reached around her, snaking his fingers down her pants, stroking her heat, groaning when he felt his dick tighten in his pants at the feel of her wet and ready for him. She cried out when his thumb circled her sensitive and slightly raw nub. She was still sore from their previous sessions that morning, but she couldn't get enough of him.

He slipped two fingers inside of her as she writhed on his lap, grinding against his erection.

"Aw, fuck," he groaned, as her hand reached down, rubbing him through is pants. He kissed the back of her neck, trailing his tongue down, making her tremble. As her hand tried to work the zipper, he used his free hand to help her, and when he was unzipped, she reached in, taking him into her hand, stroking him as he stroked her. The awkward angle seemed to make it even more exciting, and it wasn't long before she felt a warm spray of his come on her hand. She continued stroking him, lubing him up with his own seed. In a matter of moments, her muscles were clamping down on his fingers, and a surge of warm wetness soaked his hand.

Panting and needing more from her, he flipped the latch that let the driver's seat lay back. He lay back, and she turned face him, pulling her pants off and slinging them into the passenger's seat. She continued stroking his dick, getting him hard again, and when he was ready, she lowered herself down on him, moaning as she felt him fill her all the way up.

She rested her hands on his chest, giving her leverage to slide up and down on him. He groaned when her muscles clenched around him, and his hands gripped her hips.

"Fuck," he grunted pulling her down to kiss him. He sucked at her bottom lip, and she ran her fingers through his hair, softly rubbing a spot on the back of his neck she'd discovered, just this morning, that he loved to have rubbed. It was the little things she loved learning about him. Each time they made love, they seemed to find out something new about each other, and it scared her a little that they seemed to be insatiable when it came to one another. He made her feel beautiful and free, and she'd never felt like that in her entire life. Not with Ed. Not with anyone.

Carol gasped when he bucked his hips up, slamming into her, and she threw her head back grabbing the door handle to keep herself steady.

"Oh God," she moaned as she arched back and Daryl slammed into her again. "Fuck me, Daryl." The words came from the back of her throat, thick with desire and need.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it looks like you're the one gonna have to do the fuckin'," he growled, indicating their cramped quarters and the fact that it would be damned near impossible to flip over on this car seat. She smiled wickedly and clenched around him when he pulled her back down against him. Carol's eyes flashed with desire, and she kissed him, stroking his tongue with hers, biting his lower lip when he thrust up into her again.

His hands moved to her waist, lifting her up and holding on as she rode him. He felt his balls tighten, and he bit his lip, trying to hold on. When he saw the flush in her cheeks and heard those soft mewls from the back of her throat, he knew she was close. He reached a hand between them, stroking her, causing her to lose control and slam down on him. They both cried out, and Carol came as he spilled into her, their bodies damp and sticky with sweat and come, and the entire car smelled of sex.

Carol slid off his dick and collapsed against him, her forehead pressed against his neck as they both tried to control their breathing.

"Oh my God," she chuckled against him. "That was…"

"Hot," he laughed, his hand lazily stroking her back under her shirt. She laughed again and crawled off of him and into her own seat. She pulled her pants back on, and he stuffed himself back in his pants. When they both looked somewhat presentable, they stared at one another, and Carol burst into a fit of giggles again, deliriously happy, covering her face with her hands. He moved his seat back up and took a few shaky breaths, unable to wipe the grin off his face as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"You bring out the worst in me, Daryl Dixon," she teased.

"Naw," he said with a shrug. "Just makin' up for lost time. Nothin' wrong with that." He reached for her hand, linked their fingers together, started the car, and started off toward town again, ready to get her home and make love to her in their own bed.

The supply run had been a success. They'd hit up three houses, coming back with some antibiotics, pain killers, two cases of bottled water, some canned food and some clothes. They'd also found more batteries and flashlight as well as a couple of handguns and ammo. By the time they loaded everything in to the back of the car, it was late afternoon, and neither one of them wanted to drive home in the dark.

They headed back, Carol munching on some stale crackers while Daryl chewed some jerky.

"Tomorrow, it'll probably be dry enough we can start building a perimeter."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," Carol said with a devilish smile, "I can't wait to see you out there working. Promise me you won't wear a shirt."

"Pfft," he snorted. "Only if you don't."

"Oh, evil!" she kidded, squeezing his knee. "Alright. But we'd probably better work separately. We haven't exactly been productive together, lately."

"Oh, I disagree," Daryl remarked, his gaze flashing toward her breasts and then to her lips. "I think we been pretty productive."

Carol grinned and leaned back against the seat, watching as the open road twisted, rose and fell as they traveled along. They might as well have been the only two people left on the earth. She was just glad she had him with her. The world was too empty to be alone. Even if it wasn't, she knew that he was it for her. When she looked at him, she was home.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Over the next two weeks, Carol and Daryl set up a perimeter around the property. They gave themselves plenty of room within their fences that they could probably build another house if they wanted to. In the spring, they could put out a garden, grow their own food. The fences went up quickly. They would haul old fencing from neighboring properties and create their own stronger fences. It wasn't exactly as secure as what they'd had at the prison, but it was far more secure than what they'd had at the Greene farm. It would keep the walkers out at least. As long as they did perimeter checks often and killed off what walkers they might find nearby, they would be alright.

When they weren't building the perimeter, they were spending their nights in each other's arms. Carol had all but officially moved into Daryl's room. It was an unspoken thing between them. She had her room for her private space, but she never used it. Her clothes were there, and she was with him.

They took their time with each other, getting to know the intimate details of each other's bodies, enjoying every single second of it. Daryl had learned fast that as nervous as she'd been about it, Carol loved the feeling of his mouth on her, pleasing her with his tongue. He still had to coax her into it at times and get her to relax and open up to him, but when she did, the noises he drew out of her drove him wild.

On one particular morning, Carol woke to the sound of water sloshing in the bathroom. She moaned softly and stretched her naked form across Daryl's bed to find he wasn't there. She yawned and pulled the sheet around herself, walking out into the hall. She heard the water again, and she padded over to the bathroom, stopping in the doorway to see Daryl pouring a bucket of steaming water into the tub.

She leaned against the door frame, watching as his muscles rippled as he poured. He was naked, and she grinned as she gave his ass a slow once over. When Daryl turned, he met her gaze and cocked his head to the side.

"Thought you might like a hot bath," he offered. After what they'd done twice before falling asleep last night, a hot bath was probably a good idea.

"That's sweet," Carol said softly. She moved across the bathroom and kissed his cheek. He shrugged and caressed her bare shoulders.

"Just wanted ya to know I was thinkin' 'bout ya." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, letting her sheet fall around her feet. He helped her into the tub, and she held her hand out.

"What?"

"Come on," she urged, beckoning him with her finger.

"Ain't enough room for me in there," he pointed out.

"There is if I sit on your lap," she teased. Daryl cocked an eyebrow, considering the possibility for half of a second before climbing in. She shifted so she was sitting on his lap facing him, her legs around his waist.

"Don't think we're gonna get you very clean this way."

"Yeah, I know," she said with a huge grin splashing across her face. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her breasts crushing against his chest, and she kissed him hungrily, her lips seeking his as his hands moved over her in the water. She reached around him, grabbing a bar of soap off the tub ledge, and she began to lather it in her damp hands.

She rubbed her soapy hands down his arms and his chest, and he moaned softly when she broke this kiss to suck at his neck. This was certainly shaping up to be the best bath he'd ever taken in his entire life.

But just as they were beginning to sink into one another, a loud noise downstairs put a stop to it.

"What the fuck?" Daryl muttered, pulling himself out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his wasit. He helped Carol up, and she pulled on a robe and grabbed a shotgun that was propped up beside the toilet. They listened, and all they could hear was the slosh of the water back and forth in the tub. Daryl was the first out into the hall, and he peered out, seeing no disturbances of any kind. He checked the stairs and all was quiet. He and Carol shared a look, and she shrugged her shoulder, just as perplexed as he was.

They made their way down the stairs just in time to see an owl perched on top of the mantle. Daryl motioned toward it, and Carol breathed a sigh of relief.

"How'd it get in here?" Carol whispered.

"Must've been in the attic," he replied, reaching for his crossbow sitting on the coffee table. "There's a hole in that window needs fixin'." In one fluid motion, he swung the crossbow up to aim and launched a bolt right at the bird. It fell to the floor with a thud, and he moved toward it, pulling his bolt out and wiping it clean. "Well, 'guess we know what's for breakfast. Sorry Tweety."

"Aw, Daryl, don't name it! I won't be able to eat it now." She scrunched up her face, and Daryl smirked.

"It's either this or them powdered eggs ya love so much." Carol made a face. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Tweety it is."

Daryl chewed his lip absentmindedly as he and Carol walked through the woods looking for deer. They were quiet. He was usually quiet, but she was more quiet than usual.

"You mad about this morning?"

"What?" she asked, startled from the break in silence.

"We got interrupted. Didn't finish what we started." He watched as she smiled, biting her lip to suppress a giggle as her cheeks blushed.

"No. I mean, we'll make up for that later." She reached out, her fingers grazing his.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, linking his fingers with hers. She shrugged. "You can tell me."

"I was just…I was thinking about that time before we found the prison when the whole group was just traveling all winter, staying wherever we could find a place to stay. This morning just reminded me of that time you shot that owl in that house." She shrugged. "That's all, really."

"You miss 'em."

"Sure I do," Carol said quietly. "I miss Glenn and Maggie. I miss Judith and Carl. Hershel." She smiled sadly. Daryl stopped walking and stepped in front of her.

"You wanna go back, all you gotta do is say the word." He squeezed her hand. "I go where you go. Don't matter much to me." He watched the uncertainty flash in her eyes and then she shook her head.

"That's all in the past. I love them, Daryl. I do. But I need to keep looking forward." She sighed and her shoulders slumped. He lifted her chin with his fingers and stared into her eyes.

"I know," he murmured. "And we will. We can go or we can stay. I'd follow you anywhere. Ya know that, right?" Carol reached up, stroking his face with her soft hand.

"I know," she murmured. "Thank you." She leaned in, kissing him softly. "I love you so much."

"Love you too," he whispered against her lips. They heard a rustling in the bushes, and Daryl nodded in the direction of the sound. He handed his crossbow to her, and she looked at him with her brows raised. "C'mon. You got this." Carol aimed the crossbow and peered through the eyehole, waiting for the first sight of her prey. The bush rustled again, and when she saw a foot appear from behind it, her finger faltered on the trigger. It wasn't a deer. It was a person. She gasped a little, and Daryl turned in the direction of Carol's gaze.

"Oh my God," Carol breathed. The figure stepped out from behind the bush, and Carol's hand flew over her mouth. "Oh my God. Michonne?!" Michonne spun around drawing her sword, only to see Carol Peletier and Daryl Dixon standing a few yards away. Her arms were covered in cuts and bruises, and she had a large gash at her temple that was still bleeding. Carol lowered her weapon and gripped Daryl's arm. Michonne dropped her sword and fell to her knees.

Carol and Daryl rushed to her. She fell forward, and Daryl caught her just in time. She lay unconscious in his arms, and it was then that Carol noticed what was on Michonne's back.

"Oh God, Daryl," she sobbed. "Help me with this." He helped her loosen the straps, and in moments, Carol lifted a sleeping baby Judith into her arms. She cradled her close to her chest, and the baby slept through it all.

"What the hell happened?" Daryl asked to nobody in particular. Carol rocked the baby slowly, her eyes wide with fear, her lips trembling as all the worst scenarios ran through her mind. "C'mon. Let's get her back to the house." Carol slung Daryl's crossbow across her back, held the baby close and watched as Daryl lifted Michonne into his arms. Her head rolled against his shoulder, and she moaned softly in her unconscious state, leaving Carol and Daryl wondering what the hell had happened to her, or to the rest of the group for that matter.

When they got to the house, Daryl put Michonne down on the couch, and Carol handed Judith to him. She went about getting bandages and a sewing kit and medicines. She took charge and started to clean Michonne up, and Daryl watched her in awe.

Judith was deep asleep, her little head resting against Daryl's shoulder. He absentmindedly stroked her back as he watched Carol work, somehow feeling helpless in all of this. Carol had picked up quite a lot from Hershel, he realized.

Michonne didn't need too many stitches. Most of her cuts were superficial, but the one at her temple was deep, and Carol was able to stitch it pretty well. She might end up with a scar, but who didn't have scars these days?

"She gonna be ok?" Daryl asked.

"I think so. When she wakes up, we need to get some food and water in her. She's gonna be hurting, but I think she'll be alright. Doesn't seem to have any broken bones." She looked over at Daryl, her heart warming at the sight of him with Judith in his arms. He looked down at the baby and kissed the top of her head. "I think I saw a crib in the attic. We can bring it down for the baby."

"I'll get it later. She's alright here for now." At that moment, Michonne came to, gasping and startling at the contact of a cool wash cloth against her cheek. Her eyes were wild and frantic, but when her gaze settled on Carol's face, she relaxed.

"Welcome back," Carol murmured.

"Judith? Is she ok?" Michonne tried sitting up, but Carol held her shoulders down. She glanced at Daryl, and he stepped over, showing Michonne that Judith was safe. Michonne raised a hand, gently stroking the sleeping baby's leg.

"What happened out there?" Daryl finally asked. "Where is everybody?"

"Dead…or scattered," Michonne murmured. Carol grabbed a cup off the coffee table and handed Michonne two tablets.

"Take these," she ordered. "Antibiotics." Michonne stared at the pills and then at Carol before deciding to swallow them down. She took a long drink of water, coughing a little when she got choked. She wiped her mouth and settled back down against the couch.

"The Governor came back," she said, her lower lip trembling. "He killed Hershel. Almost killed me. I was lucky." Her voice was angry, but the tears that refused to fall showed despair and fear. "I killed him. Left him to die, and the next time I saw him, he had a bullet through his head. Somebody put the bastard out of his misery."

"Oh my God," Carol whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.

"I saw Judith all alone in her car seat. That little girl Lizzie was dead. Her sister was too. Judith was covered in blood. I couldn't…I couldn't get to the other girls to…" Carol flinched at the thought of Lizzie and Mica dead and turned, immediately feeling a pang of guilt for not having been there like she'd promised their father she would. "There was smoke everywhere. Shots were flying. I heard screams, and I took her and ran. Didn't see…didn't see anybody else." Michonne's gaze fell toward the fire place. "You been here long?"

"Few weeks," Carol said quietly. "It's pretty safe. We have fences now." She looked up at Daryl. "She can have my old room." Daryl knew it was wrong to feel happy at hearing her call that room her _old_ room given the current situation they were looking at, but he loved that she didn't even flinch at the idea of giving up that space.

"I'll get your stuff,' He offered, handing baby Judith down to her. She smiled and gave him a little nod before he headed upstairs.

"We'll keep Judith with us," Carol offered, not even thinking of what she was saying. "You should rest." Michonne stared at Carol, and Carol suddenly realized what she'd said. Her cheeks tinged with red.

"You and Daryl?" Michonne asked, a little smile turning up in the corner of her mouth despite the grave situation she'd just come out of.

"It just...I don't know…happened, I guess."

"I dunno," Michonne murmured, shifting on the couch, "you ask me, it's been a long time coming. I say…it's about damned time." Carol bit back a chuckle. She couldn't help herself. Yeah, the world was covered with walking dead people and things were pretty bad, but she had Daryl, and with him, she could forget about things for a little while.

Michonne winced when she took in a sharp breath and felt pain. She lifted her shirt to see a large bruise on her side.

"I don't think it's broken," Carol offered. "But you're banged up pretty bad. You need to rest. And _eat_."

"Thank you," Michonne said quietly. "For taking me in."

"That's what friends do," Carol said quietly. Michonne placed her hand on Carol's shoulder.

"Rick told me. About Karen and David." Carol flinched, her back stiffening. "I told him he was wrong for sending you away.. There at the end, I think he believed that, too." Carol felt tears sting her eyes. She watched as Michonne's lower lip trembled at the mention of Rick.

"I'll make you something to eat." She stood and walked out of the room and into the kitchen. She leaned over the sink and stared out the window and into the back yard, her pulse racing, her stomach turning, her eyes spilling salty tears she'd been holding back.

"Hey, Carol? You want me to put…" His voice halted the moment he saw her shoulders shaking as she leaned over the sink. He moved up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Carol?"

"It's too much," she whispered, wiping her eyes and her nose with the back of her hand. She turned to him, her face pale, her eyes red, and she shook her head. "It's too much." He swallowed hard, uncertain of exactly what to say or do, but when he saw her standing there, shaking, arms crossed protectively in front of her, he pulled her close.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he murmured, folding her in his arms. She sighed, relaxing against him, her arms hugging his waist. He kissed the top of her head as she fell into him, her body shaking against his. "It's alright. It's alright." She sighed and waited until her heart stopped racing and she tried to believe him when he said that everything was alright.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

After scavenging through Michonne's pack, Carol found two cans of baby formula. It would be enough for now. Carol placed them in the kitchen cabinet and set about making a bottle up for her. When she walked into the living room, Judith was crying so hard her little face was red and streaked with tears. Daryl sat in the rocking chair with her, trying to calm her, but nothing worked. Carol quickly crossed the room and handed him the bottle, and as soon as it touched her lips, the little one began to eat hungrily. It broke Carol's heart to see the child so hungry.

Michonne sat on the couch with a plate of some kind meat—she guessed opossum—eating as quickly as she could without making herself sick. It wasn't until she ate that first piece that she realized how truly hungry she was.

"Want me to take her?" Carol asked. "Give your arms a rest?" She reached out for the baby, but Daryl shrugged, staring down at the little one.

"Nah, I'm alright," he said quietly. "Right, Little Ass Kicker?" The baby grunted as she ate, and Carol's face lit up with a smile.

"She'll be twenty someday and you'll still be calling her that," Carol said quietly, pausing and secretly chastising herself for daring to think too far into the future. Daryl caught her gaze, a little smile pushing at his own lips. She cleared her throat and decided to change the subject. "Just don't come complaining to me when her first words are something worthy of a sailor." Michonne laughed at that, a true, hearty laugh.

Michonne's eyes glittered, and Carol smiled at that. It felt good to have company for a change. Not that she didn't enjoy being alone with Daryl, but it was nice to have another woman around as well as the joy a baby brought, no matter how fussy said baby might be.

"Hey, it's the end of the world," Daryl pointed out. "Ain't like she got other kids to influence with her sailor mouth, huh?" Carol laughed and shook her head.

"I guess not. But she's a baby, and I'd rather not have her running around in a year's time asking 'what the fuck?' every time she doesn't understand something. Michonne laughed again, and then Daryl's eyes glittered with amusement before he allowed a chuckle, and they all sat around having a good laugh despite how shitty everything was around them.

When they quieted and sat in silence, Daryl chewed his lower lip for a minute, staring down at the baby in his arms. He thought about what it was like growing up with no mama and a shitty daddy. But at least he had a daddy, as shitty as he was. He hated the idea of this baby growing up never knowing her mother _or_ her father. As pissed off as he'd been at Rick these past few weeks about what had happened with Carol, he looked at that baby and saw all the innocence she brought to the world. Whatever bad shit had happened to her, she wasn't all that concerned about it. All she cared about was having somebody to hold her and feed her and change her and to take care of her. She didn't care about all that other stuff. Just having people was all she cared about.

He sighed heavily and shook his head a little. Having a baby around sure put things into perspective.

"Daryl?" Carol asked, having caught his little headshake. "What's on your mind?"

"Thought I might head out tomorrow, do some back tracking. Maybe the others…maybe if they got out they're headin' this way, too."

"Daryl, that's over sixty miles," Carol murmured.

"Michonne made it all this way. Maybe somebody else did, too," Daryl reasoned. Michonne sighed softly.

"I drove most of it. Car ran out of gas about ten miles back. Never saw another car my whole way here, but that doesn't mean somebody didn't make it out," she explained.

"I'll go out tomorrow mornin'," he said with a nod. "I find any of our group, I'll bring 'em back." He looked down at little Judith in his arms. "That alright with you?" The baby grunted again, and he smiled down at her. Carol sighed softly and fought back the feeling of her jittery nerves getting the best of her. They sat in silence again, and all Carol could think about was that the last thing she wanted was to be separated from him again. As strong as she felt right now, she wasn't sure she could take it if anything happened to him.

Michonne had a warm bath and retired to Carol's old room pretty early. Daryl had brought down that old crib from the attic and cleaned it up pretty good. He put the crib over on the far wall, as far from the window as he could get it, and he figured that was the best possible place. Nobody would be running into it or tripping over it on accident in the middle of the night.

Carol had busied herself washing the baby in a basin downstairs, and after feeding her another bottle, the baby was out like a light.

She carried her up the stairs, and Daryl was just wiping off the crib rails.

"Think it's ok?" he asked, standing back for Carol to see his work. He shook the crib rail. "Seems sturdy enough."

"It'll probably be the most comfortable bed she's ever had," Carol replied with a little smile. "I'll get some sheets." She handed the baby over to him and rummaged through the hall closet, finding old crib sheets that looked like they were from the '80s. But Judith wouldn't care. Carol took her time making up the bed, and when she was done, Daryl put the baby down in it, and she didn't even stir. Carol reached for his hand, and they stood side by side, peering down at Judith as she slept. Carol tired leaned her head on his shoulder, and he let go of her hand only to pull his arm around her shoulders.

"You ok?" he asked softly, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Just thinking." He knew she was thinking about Sophia, and that would never stop. He saw a tear slip down her cheek and reached over to brush it away. She smiled, and he kissed the side of her head.

"C'mon. Let's go to bed." She let him lead her, and they climbed into bed, pulling each other close. She rested her head on his chest, and he stroked her shoulders and her back until he felt her grow limp against him. He listened to the sound of her breathing for a while until his own eyes felt heavy and he gave in to the pull of sleep.

Carol was the first awake. She placed a kiss to a sleeping Daryl's lips, slid out of bed, got dressed, checked on the baby and went downstairs to start breakfast. This morning, it was going to be oatmeal. The dry oats in the cupboard weren't completely stale yet, and she figured, as she stirred them over the fire, that if it wasn't satisfying, at least it would be filling.

She added some sugar to it, and before long, the entire downstairs smelled sweet, and her stomach was growling. Michonne was the first to come down the stairs, slowly as the ache in her body had increased over night. She moaned softly as she sat down on the couch. Carol noticed the pain etched her face, so she grabbed a bottle of painkillers off the mantle and extended it out to Michonne. Michonne shook her head.

"Pain just means I'm alive," she muttered. Carol kept her hand extended out with the bottle in it, the pills rattling inside.

"Just take it. You don't have to be a bad ass all the time."

"Look at you," Michonne chuckled. "I think Daryl Dixon's rubbing off on you…in more than one way." Carol blushed, and Michonne grinned widely. The injured woman finally rolled her eyes and took the bottle, extracting one pill and handing the rest back to Carol. She swallowed it down dry and winced at the bitterness.

Moments later, Daryl came down the steps with his crossbow slung over one shoulder. He was stuffing a pistol into the back of his pants. Carol scooped out some oatmeal into a bowl and handed it to Michonne. Daryl crouched down next to the fire, next to Carol, and as badly as he wanted to kiss her at that moment, he wasn't sure how she'd react to having an audience.

"Mornin'." His voice was gruff and hoarse from sleep. She smiled and nudged his shoulder before scooping some oatmeal into a bowl and handing it to him with a spoon.

"Morning," she murmured. "Eat this."

"Yes ma'am," he said with a grin, taking a bite of oatmeal, holding the spoon between his lips for a moment, eyeing her. She blushed. Dear God, was he trying to make her squirm?

She was the first to stand, taking a bowl of oatmeal for herself and sitting down on the couch beside Michonne. She could have sworn she saw disappointment in his eyes. She smirked a little, her gaze promising she'd have all the affection in the world for him later, in private. She was just getting used to being with him in private. She wasn't exactly ready for someone to see them that way. She liked having him just to herself without the rest of the world knowing exactly what they were doing.

"You two leaving early?" Michonne asked, devouring two big bites of oatmeal. Her appetite was coming back with a vengeance.

"Two?" Carol asked. She glanced at Daryl. "I figured I'd stay here with you."

"Why? I'm fine."

"You might need help with Judith."

"I've been taking care of Judith for three days," Michonne pointed out, "and I was feeling a whole lot worse than I am right now." Carol sighed and looked at Daryl, who finished the last few bites of oatmeal and placed his bowl to the side.

"It's your call," he said quietly. "Wouldn't mind to have ya with me." She smiled a little and looked back at Michonne, seeing the bruises and cuts on her skin, and she felt a pang of guilt hit her gut for wanting to go with Daryl instead of staying at the house.

"I think I'd feel better if I stayed," she said quietly. "At least today. You need to rest, Michonne. I'll look after Judy." She looked up at Daryl, and he gave her a little nod. "Come on, I'll walk you to the car." Daryl started for the door, and she followed after him. When they were outside, Daryl did a quick survey of the area, making sure there were no walkers around. All was quiet except for the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Carol eyed his pack.

"Did you pack water? Food? Ammo?"

"Got three bottles and some jerky," he assured her. "Got a box of bullets and fresh bolts. I ain't plannin' on bein' gone all day. I'll go fifteen, twenty miles and circle back."

"You and I both know things don't always go to plan," she pointed out as he leaned against the car. He put his hands on her hips and tugged her toward him. Her hands rested on his chest at first, and then she snaked her arms around his neck. He leaned his forehead against hers, and they both sighed softly, hating to be apart like this.

"I'm comin' back. I told you I ain't losin' you again, and I meant it." Carol swallowed the lump in her throat, silently cursing herself for feeling so scared. This was _Daryl_. Of course he was coming back. He could take care of himself, but it gnawed at her to think of him being out there alone where any number of complications could arise.

"Nine lives, right?" she asked quietly, gazing up into his dark blue eyes. He answered her by gently lifting her chin with his fingertips and kissing her softly. When he pulled back, she sighed against his lips and hugged him close. "I love you."

"Love you," he murmured, kissing the top of his head. "I'll be back 'fore dark. Promise."

"You better be, Daryl Dixon," she warned, her voice breaking a little. God, she already missed him. He pulled her in close again, kissing her, feeling her lips trembling against his. Finally, she pulled away, willing herself not to shed any tears. The last thing Daryl needed to see before he drove away was her crying. "Be careful."

"Always am," he promised. And that was it. He climbed into the car, started the engine, and with one last glance back at her, he headed off and away from the house. Carol suddenly felt very alone, and she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering at the chill in the air. Finally, when the car was out of sight, she headed back into the house, trying not to focus on her worries or the length of time that he was gone. He'd be back. He always came back. She just had to trust that.

_Author's Note: I want to thank those of you who have left reviews for me! Your support is greatly appreciated. I hope you continue to let me know what you think as the story progresses. Feedback helps me make choices about this story, believe it or not. I have some interesting plans coming up, but I am ALWAYS open to suggestions. I enjoy writing what I like, but I also like making my readers happy. :)_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

By mid-afternoon, Carol's stomach was all twisted up into knots. She'd already put in a full day's work. She'd hauled water into the house from the pump outside. She'd checked snares Daryl had set up and retrieved three squirrels and a rabbit. Michonne, aching for something to do, offered to help, so Carol gave her a knife and let her skin the kills.

Judith was fussy, so when Michonne started her work on dinner, Carol put Judith in the carrier on her back and set about checking the perimeter. Gun in hand, backup gun and knife tucked in her belt, she walked the fences looking for walkers. There were a few she could see ambling through the woods, but they didn't even seem to notice her. From the stench in the air, there was something dead out there, and that's probably what they were being drawn too.

When she returned, Michonne already had the meat cut up and was cooking it over the fire. Carol put Judith down for a nap and joined her friend in the living room. But she couldn't sit still. She got up and went to the window, peering out to see if there was any sign of Daryl.

Then she went to the door and out onto the porch and looked and listened for any sign. When Carol returned, feeling those nerves coiling up inside of her stomach, Michonne looked up from her spot in front of the fire.

"Don't worry. He'll be back soon," Michonne assured her. "If the look on his face when you guys got up to leave means anything, he'll be breaking the sound barrier to get back to you." She smiled when she saw Carol blush and smile a little.

"I hate this," Carol finally admitted.

"Hate what?"

"This. Being _this_ girl. I'm the girl that's pining for her boyfriend to come home from a trip. I've _never_ been that girl."

"I hate to break it to you, Carol, but you've been that girl since I've known you." Carol shot her a look. Michonne held her hands up in front of her, raising her eyebrows. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It's…you're strong. You are. You can take care of yourself. But when it comes to Daryl?" Michonne grinned. "Back at the prison, you were the first one at the gate when he came back. If he went out in a group, you were looking for him first when the group came back." Carol thought for a moment and then covered her face with her hands.

"Oh God, you're right," she chuckled. "I _am_ that girl."

"Yeah," Michonne laughed. "You are. But that's ok. Glad to see _both_ of you happy. It suits you." Micheonne's smile faded, and she took the skillet out of the fire. "Hungry?"

"Save me some for later. Don't have much of an appetite right now," Carol admitted. Michonne nodded and scooped out a portion for her, saving some for Daryl and for Carol. "Michonne, can you listen for Judy? I'm gonna check the perimeter again." Her fingers twitched at her sides, and she clearly felt like she was suffocating inside while she waited for him to return.

"Sure," Michonne said quietly, eyeing Carol as she grabbed a jacket off the back of a chair and pulled it on. She grabbed a gun and rushed out the door, ready to be outside, ready to not feel like she was going crazy waiting on him to come home.

It was nearing dusk when Carol saw the flash of headlights pulling up the long drive. Her heart leapt in her chest, and she got up from the couch with Judith in her arms. She rushed toward the door, Michonne limping behind her, and she walked out onto the porch, her hand poised at the handle of her gun just in case it wasn't Daryl. But she could make out his form as he pulled up outside the house, and all the nerves that had coiled around in her stomach relaxed or fizzled out completely.

Daryl got out of the car looking defeated and exhausted. Carol handed Judith off to Michonne and rushed off toward the car. She saw that he was alone, but all that mattered right now was that he was back and he was safe.

She nearly slammed into him, and the force of her hug when she pulled her arms around him was consuming. He felt like he couldn't breathe, but he didn't care, because she was in his arms.

Carol noticed his shirt was torn and he had bruises on his arm. His lip was cut and bleeding, and it almost looked like he'd been in a bar fight.

"What happened?" she asked softly, gently stroking the discolored spots on his skin.

"Ran into a herd. Had to do some climbin'." He groaned and shifted his weight. "Think I sprained my ankle." He wiped at her cheeks, and she realized she was crying. _Jesus, I really am that girl._ "You ok?"

"Fine now," she murmured. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothin'," he grunted, looking toward the porch where Michonne stood with the baby. "They could be anywhere. But I'll go lookin' again tomorrow. Found some gas. Got a full tank and some to spare."

"Daryl," Carol murmured, kissing him softly, not caring that Michonne could see. She shook her head. "You're not going back out there until you're healed. I'll go."

"S'alright," he whispered, stroking her cheek.

"No, it's not," she insisted, her voice raw with emotion. "I can't lose you too, Daryl."

"Hey," he breathed, shaking his head and looking into her eyes. "You ain't gonna lose me."

"Look at you!" she cried. "You're bleeding, you're bruised. You're hurt, Daryl." She felt her stomach twist in knots again. She felt sick. She felt dizzy. When she let out a sob, she knew that she was going to lose it. She turned away from him and rushed up the porch steps and into the house. Daryl stared at Michonne, jaw a bit slack, completely lost for words. She hobbled down the porch steps with the baby in her arms.

"She was worried," Michonne said quietly.

"Ain't the first time I've gone off by myself." He just wasn't getting it.

"Maybe not," Michonne said quietly. "But all she did from the time you left was try not to think about you, and that didn't exactly work out." She shifted Judith in her arms. It was then that Daryl got it. It wasn't the first time he'd gone off on his own. But it _was_ the first time he'd gone off on his own since everything had changed between them. Now he felt like a complete asshole.

"Do me a favor? Can you keep Judith with you tonight? I know Carol said—"

"I already moved her crib this afternoon. Carol doesn't know. I figured you two would want some privacy when you got back." Daryl felt the hot flush on his cheeks and ducked his head.

"Thanks," he murmured, brushing past her and going into the house. Michonne moved back up the porch and sat down on the step with Judith in her arms, figuring she'd give them a little space before she went in. The baby was sleeping in her arms, but that didn't stop Michonne from pointing up at the stars and tracing the constellations with her fingers, talking about what she thought they looked like, like she'd done with Andre a lifetime ago.

Carol was in the kitchen when he walked in, his boots thudding awkwardly on the floor when he hobbled. He propped himself up against the doorframe and looked at her. She had her back turned to him, and she was leaning over the sink. He knew she was crying again, and he was quickly beginning to hate the kitchen. It's where she always seemed to go when she cried, and he hated that he was the reason she was crying now.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't think…"

"I'm not mad," she whispered through her cries. She turned to face him. "I'm not…I wasn't ready to feel like this…so terrified that I wouldn't see you again. Jesus, Daryl, I love you so much." She took in a few shaky, gulping breaths and he crossed the distance between them. "I'm sorry. I feel so stupid."

"Hey," he assured her, pulling her into his arms. "It's ok." He stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. "Nobody's ever worried about me like that before. Guess I'm not used to havin' somebody wonderin' where I am and missin' me when I'm gone."

"I was a mess this afternoon," she admitted. "I worry when you go hunting. I worry when we're not together. But this was different. You were leaving, and I couldn't help but think of all the what ifs." She sighed and relaxed in his arms.

"Come on," he said quietly, tugging at her hand, pulling her out of the kitchen and through the living room.

"What?" Carol asked quietly. "Where are we going?"

"We're goin' to bed."

"But what about the baby?"

"Michonne's got her. We're goin' upstairs, and we're gonna take care of each other." Carol felt her heart flutter, and she felt that familiar stirring deep inside. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, exhausted from an afternoon spent scared to death that something bad might happen. And something bad had happened.

"Daryl," she said quietly, "that won't make me worry about you any less."

"You don't gotta worry," he said quietly. "I promised I'd come back to ya. I don't break my promises." He kissed her cheek and stroked her lips with his thumb. She sighed, closing her eyes and relishing the feel of his hand against her skin.

"Things are more complicated now," she said quietly. "I just can't shake the feeling that something's going to happen and…" Her voice trailed off, and Daryl placed his hands on her shoulders, gently squeezing them.

"Hey," he stopped her, leaning in to kiss her again. "We got more'n enough to worry about. But I'm here. You're here. We're safe, and that's what counts. Alright?" She sighed and nodded, still not feeling entirely thrilled about the idea of him risking his life like this. But that was her Daryl. He'd almost died looking for Sophia, but he was still here. He was a good man, and she couldn't ask him to change, because that was the man she'd fallen in love with.

"Alright," she said, giving him her best smile, though he could tell it was half-hearted and that her mind was still filled with doubts and worries. He grabbed her hand and linked his fingers with hers.

"C'mon. Let's go to bed."

"That feel ok?" Carol asked, kneeling on the floor next to the bed. She'd taken off Daryl's boots and was now massaging his aching ankle. He winced at the feeling of her fingers when they brushed over the swelling.

"It's fine," he lied.

"You are a horrible liar, Daryl Dixon," Carol said with a little grin. "C'mon. Let's prop your foot up." She grabbed an extra pillow out of the closet and put it at the end of the bed. He rested his foot on it and watched her. "What?"

"Nothin'," he said quietly, his eyes telling a whole other story. "Just glad to be home."

"I'm glad you're home," she said softly. She moved around the bed and crawled in, snuggling up against him. He pulled his arm around her, holding her close as she rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. "Daryl? Promise me you won't go back out until your ankle's better." He was quiet, his breathing steady and deep. "Daryl?" She looked up to see he'd fallen asleep. She smiled tiredly and leaned up to place a kiss to his lips. She sighed and relaxed against him again, and soon she was fast asleep in his embrace.

_Thanks for the support so far, everyone! As always, reviews and feedback would be great and most appreciated! Thanks again and Caryl on!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note: Please let me know what you think! We're about to get into some pretty emotional chapters coming up. I think it's gonna bring Daryl and Carol a lot closer. _

Chapter 13

It was a good four days before Daryl's ankle was healed and his limp was gone. He was still a bit sore, but he could travel, and as much as Carol hated it, he insisted on going back out. So, while he was filling up the gas tank with what he had left in reserve, Carol was filling his pack with food and water and bandages.

Michonne stood in the kitchen holding baby Judith, watching as Carol fidgeted nervously with Daryl's pack.

"What are you doing?" Michonne finally asked, breaking the silence. Carol eyed her.

"What do you mean?" she wondered, stuffing in a pack of jerky and some pecans.

"You're one of the best shots I've seen. He's good with a bow, but you're just as good with a gun. Why don't you go with him?" Carol looked at Michonne and then at Judith.

"But you…"

"I'm fine, Carol," Michonne insisted. "I feel strong, I'm rested. You don't have to stay and watch over me." Carol watched as Michonne stroked the baby's back absentmindedly, as if it was all so natural to her.

"You're good with her," Carol pointed out, smiling and tickling Judith's chubby arm. Michonne smiled sadly.

"Some things you just don't forget," she said gently, looking down. Carol's smile fell.

"I didn't know," she said quietly.

"It's not something I talk about." Michonne shrugged. "I imagine, for the same reasons you don't talk about your girl." She caught Carol's gaze, and the two women stared at one another for a moment. Carol felt a heavy weight drop into her stomach, her heart wrenching at the thought that everyone who survived today had lost so much in this world. Whatever they had left was something to hold onto and to cherish.

Carol felt tears sting her eyes, and she put her hand over her mouth. She didn't normally let herself think about Sophia for more than a few moments each day, because each day was difficult, and her grief was still so powerful that it would cripple her if she let it

"I'm sorry," Michonne said softly. "Carol, I'm so sorry."

"No," she said softly, shaking her head. "It's ok." She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, drying the tears that had slipped out. "I think I will go with Daryl. Do you need anything?"

"Chocolate," the woman responded with a little smile, hoping to pry one out of Carol, too. "And EZ Cheese." Carol laughed at that, and she nodded.

"Alright," she said softly. "I'll be on the lookout. Maybe I'll even find a toy for you, Little Miss." Judith gummed at her fingers and smiled when Carol tickled her. She slung Daryl's pack over her shoulder and turned. As she was leaving, Michonne called out again.

"Carol?"

"Yeah?" She turned.

"If you find any comic books while you're out pick some up…for Carl." Michonne swallowed hard. "You know, just in case." Carol smiled sadly.

"Sure," she said softly before turning and heading upstairs to pack up a few things.

Daryl's ankle still ached a little too much to put pressure on the gas for hours at a time, so Carol had taken over driving. They had gone about thirty miles from home, stopped in a little town for some supplies. Carol had successfully found a bag of miniature candy bars for Michonne, and there had even been some canned cheese. At the front of the store, near the magazines that were plastered with people who no longer existed, was a row of comic books. Carol nabbed a few and stuffed them in her pack while Daryl grabbed formula and clothes for Judith.

They fit as much as they could into the back of the car before driving around town and looking for any sign of other survivors.

"Do you think any of them made it?" Carol wondered, peering out the car window.

"Michonne made it. Judith made it. So maybe," he said quietly. His fingers strummed against the steering wheel. "Might just be takin' some time. Might have to drive all the way back to the prison and start from there." Carol's stomach felt unsettled at the thought of it. The last place she ever wanted to see again was that prison. They'd never truly been safe there. When it was safe from walkers, other people came in and tore the place up. When that threat was gone, there was sickness. When the sickness was gone, those people came back and destroyed it all for everybody. And of course, Rick hadn't wanted her there. He'd even told her that if everybody else died, he wouldn't have her around his children. Now here she was, helping take care of his child, he was nowhere to be seen, and he could have very easily been dead for all they knew.

With no luck in town, they turned around and went back to the highway, traveling slowly in case anybody was sticking to the tree line for cover.

"We could leave a sign," she said quietly. She chewed her lip. "But that might attract strangers." She ran her fingers through her short hair and glanced at Daryl.

"Maybe you're right."

"'Bout what?"

"Maybe we should start back at the prison. Maybe that _is_ the best way to start." She fidgeted in her seat. "I mean, it's only been, what, a little over a week since everything happened. Maybe some of them are still around there." She swallowed hard. "We can't _not_ look, Daryl."

"I'm game if you are," he murmured.

"Alright. Should we double back? Tell Michonne?" She saw Daryl rub the back of his neck.

"Nah, I figure she don't expect us back today anyway."

"How do you figure that?" Carol asked, eyeing him before focusing on the road again.

"I sorta told her we might be a few days." Carol looked at him, and he blushed. "Look, I know I'm an asshole for that. The world's shit, our people are missing, but I just…I wanna…" He couldn't get the words out, so she reached for his hand. She knew.

"I know…"

"No. I…" He grumbled in frustration. "I wanted just you. Don't matter if it's about sex or all that. It ain't the same bein' on the road without ya."

"I know," she grinned. She squeezed his hand. "Besides, I _wanted_ to be here. Somebody has to look after you and make sure you don't end up a tree again."

"I dunno," he mused, "last time we were in a tree together, it turned out pretty good." She couldn't suppress a giggle that came, and she sobered when he caressed her knuckles with the rough pad of his thumb. "Maybe we'll stop somewhere along the way, sleep in a real bed. Got used to that, you know?"

"Mmm," Carol said softly. "I guess I wouldn't mind sleeping on the ground again if you were with me." She saw Daryl blush, and damn it, it was the sweetest thing in the world. Even after all they'd been through, everything they'd done with one another, he still blushed, and she loved it.

It was mid afternoon when they started to pull into familiar territory. They passed the little town they used to go to for general supply runs when they stayed at the prison. It seemed changed already, more walkers filling the streets, more weeds spilling through the cracks in the old pavement.

When they pulled up to the top of one particularly big hill, they saw white smoke billowing up into the bright blue sky like the steam of a ship. Carol and Daryl looked at one another and then back up at the smoke. Carol pressed on the gas and drove up to the dirt road that led to the prison gates. Within seconds, they could see the destruction scattered before them. The prison walls were all but down. The fences were lying in the tall grass. The place was crawling with walkers, and various cars and a military tank were scattered in the field.

There were no flames, but smoke lay heavy over the land like a death blanket, and the crumbled watch towers still seemed to put of waves of heat from the fire that once was.

"Oh my God," Carol whispered, her heart tightening in her chest. She suddenly felt as if in the wind had been knocked out of her. He reached across the seat, placing his hand on her knee. She felt cold, but his touch brought her back. "We…we should have been here." Daryl looked at her, considering her words.

"This ain't your fault," he assured her. "If we'd been here, we'd be dead or out there like Michonne was." Carol looked at him, her eyes filled with tears.

"How could anybody have survived this?" Her hand trembled as she wiped her tears away, and she peered through the smoke, watching the walkers coming toward them. She shook her head and slammed the car into reverse, peeling out, spraying up dirt and pebbles as she turned the car around. She put it back in drive and started back down the dirt road and away from the herd that was limping and trudging their way, snarling and gnashing what was left of their rotten teeth.

She drove back out onto the highway and up the road a ways to a little house with a car port. She pulled in underneath it and she took a deep breath.

"We should leave the car and supplies here. Cut through the woods and search the area. If anybody stayed close, they'd have stayed along the road or in the woods away from the view of the prison. That's where the walkers seem to be concentrated." She nodded in the direction of the prison.

"We stay together," Daryl pointed out. "I ain't losin' you again." She nodded, and he pulled her in close, kissing her. When he pulled back, she smiled at him. "Just had to."

"Me too," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him once more. "You ready?" He nodded. "Let's go."

They walked through the woods, sticking to a dirt path as best as they could so they wouldn't make too much noise. The leaves were drying up and falling to the ground as the temperatures cooled, and any crackling of leaves or snapping of large twigs might bring on a herd.

Carol had her knife tucked into her belt, ready to grab it at a moment's notice. She had a gun holstered at her hip and a rifle strapped to her back. Daryl chose to carry his crossbow in his hands, not willing to take any chances in case of a surprise.

They communicated through eye contact and hand signals, trying to make as little noise as possible. They managed to make it up to the tree line that overlooked the prison, seeing it from a whole new angle, and it was just as devastating as they site they'd seen driving up to it from the road. From where they stood, the walkers dotted the land like ants marching to a hill. They were everywhere, even on the ground, broken in half but still pulling themselves by the hands toward the scraps of flesh and organs that were likely scattered from the battle with The Governor.

Carol put her hand over her mouth as the stench blew up with the breeze, souring the air around them and making her choke back bile. She was used to stench and rotting flesh, but this was too much. These could be her people out there, and the thought of it made it seem a hundred times worse.

Daryl reached for her hand, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. He pulled his arm around her, and they stood there, watching as what used to be their home seemed to crumble before their eyes.

A snarl from nearby startled them both, and they looked to see a line of walkers coming up from the side. Carol grabbed her knife and held it steady in her hand. Daryl unleashed a bolt into the forehead of the nearest walker, grabbed it and twisted, watching the body fall unmoving to the ground.

Carol and Daryl looked at one another for a brief moment, the worries and fears on full display, etched in their expressions. He gave her an encouraging nod, and they made their way through the swarm, cutting down walker after walker in their path.

The commotion had caught the interest of other walkers, who were making their way up the hill toward them.

"Shit," Daryl muttered, grabbing another bolt from the skull of his last kill. He grabbed Carol's hand as she removed her knife from the eye of another walker. She wiped the blade on the dry grass and followed Daryl deeper into the trees.

When they'd lost the walkers but could still hear them ambling toward them, they paused to take a breath, and Carol bent forward, resting her hands on her knees, catching her breath and wondering what the next step was.

"Wanna get back to the road? Get some rest and start fresh tomorrow?" he asked. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before nodding in defeat. "Let's cut around…try and lose…" A walker stomped out from the bushes, and Carol acted fast, bringing it down by kicking it hard in the chest and plunging her knife through hit's face. When it was still, she and Daryl looked at one another, heard the herd growing closer and started to run.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_Warning: This chapter has a character death. Don't worry, The Queen and the Archer are ok._

They circled through the woods as quickly as they could, keeping in mind the direction their car was in. They had walkers on their trail, and all they could do was hope they got them turned around enough that they could make it back to the car without having to use their guns. One gunshot, and this entire search and rescue expedition could be over.

One walker got a bit too close, and Carol took him down with her buck knife. Daryl grabbed a bolt in one hand and stuck it through another walker's eye. They continued running, hearts pounding, breaths straining, and when they finally made it out to the road, they realized they'd overshot by about twenty yards.

Carol sighed, slumping over and resting her hands on her bent knees. Daryl placed a hand on her back, and she moaned softly as she fought for breath.

"Haven't had to do anything like that for a while," she murmured when her breath finally found her lungs again.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine . Just dying here." She looked up at him with a cheeky grin, but he looked worried. "Daryl, I'm fine. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, you more'n proved that. Don't mean I still won't worry."

"Now you know what I feel like when you're out there." She straightened and ran her fingers through her short hair. He watched her, all glowing with sweat and breathing hard, and it stirred something inside of him. Even after fighting off walkers and running over a mile, he still found his body responding to his attraction to her.

She saw the look in his eyes and the redness in his cheeks, and her mouth twitched up in a smile.

"Really? Now?"

"Can't help it, woman."

"What is it?" she asked, with a quiet giggle as they walked down the road, her hand gripping his.

"What?"

"What's got you so…worked up?" He mumbled something, and she squeezed his hand. "What?"

"You're all…sweaty and breathin' hard. Reminds me of when we're…"

"Oh," she giggled.

"Is that stupid?"

"No," she said with a smile. "Surprising, but not stupid. I like that I get you all worked up." She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"For a second I thought ya might think there was somethin' wrong with me. We're out here tryin' to figure out if our friends are dead or not, and all I can think about is getting back to that house and findin' a bed."

"Now that doesn't sound like such a bad idea." She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling in the dimming sunlight. "Come on. We'll have something to eat, settle down for the night, and we'll start fresh in the morning." They walked on toward the house in a comfortable silence, hoping they'd seen the last of walkers for one day.

When they arrived back at the house, they grabbed what things they needed for the night and checked all around the yard for any sign of walkers. Daryl thumped on the front door and pressed his ear against it, listening for any sign of danger.

"It's quiet," he said softly, thumping on the door a little louder. Carol peered around the area, making sure no walkers had heard Daryl's knocks. It was quiet, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Daryl jimmied the lock, and they walked inside to find dust on top of furniture. The place pretty much looked untouched. After checking each room and closet, the coast was clear, and they tossed their things on the couch and leaned against it, pleased they'd found some place that at least had a bed and some food in the cupboards.

Carol was the first into the bedroom, stripping off dusty comforter and folding it neatly at the foot of the bed. She sat down, stripping her boots and socks off, her feet aching more than usual. She sighed and watched as Daryl came in next, sitting down next to her on the bed. He kicked off his boots, and they sat there staring at each other. She suddenly laughed.

"What?"

"I think my feet hate me. I haven't been very nice to them today." She wiggled her sockless toes, and he gave her one of his signature half-grins. He patted his lap, and she swiveled in the bed, laying back against the pillow and propping her feet up in his lap. He took one foot at a time into his rough hands, gently squeezing. She closed her eyes, sighing at the feeling of his hands on her aching feet.

He watched her face, her lips twitching into a smile when his thumb moved up the ball of her foot. After several minutes, he placed her feet back on the bed, and she opened one eye to look at him.

"My whole body hurts," she murmured, her voice a little low. "Can you do something about that, too?" He snorted, and she chuckled. He moved to lay next to her on the bed, pulling her into his arms. She sighed, resting one hand on his cheek, staring into his deep blue eyes.

"You tired?"

"Very," she said quietly. He leaned in to kiss her forehead and then her nose and then her lips, and she moaned softly against his mouth. Just as his hand was moving down her back, they heard a shrill scream coming from outside. They both jumped up quickly from the bed, staring at each other in shocked silence before they heard another scream.

Carol and Daryl quickly pulled their socks and boots back on, ran through the house, grabbed their weapons and headed outside where it was getting dark already. Carol looked around for any sign of where the scream had come from, and Daryl peered into the trees, looking for anything to run after.

Another shrill scream, and they took off toward it, weapons drawn, hearts hammering in their chests. They ran into the woods, flashlights casting dancing, ghostly shadows against the trees. Another scream, this one closer and bloodcurdling, and Daryl stopped suddenly, shining his flashlight down into a small creek bed that was nearly dried up.

"What is it?" she whispered, moving to stand next to him, looking in the direction of Daryl's gaze. Down in the ravine was a group of six walkers huddled over a kicking, writhing body that was covered and blood, crying and begging for death.

"It's Beth," Daryl murmured, looking down at the young girl as she was ripped open by walkers. Carol choked back a sob, and the two of them rushed down, weapons out, and they felled all six walkers within minutes. Carol was the first to get to Beth's side as the young girl choked and gasped, her chest shuddering as she convulsed.

"Oh, Beth," Carol murmured, tears streaking her face. Beth's eyelids fluttered open, and she seemed to fix on Carol's face. She reached a hand up, stroking Carol's cheek, leaving a spread of blood there. Daryl moved toward them clutching a bloody arrow in his hand, and he fell to his knees next to them.

"Maggie? Did you see?" Beth asked between gasped.

"No, sweetheart," Carol said softly, squeezing the girl's hand.

"I think she's ok," Beth whispered. "I think…I think she got out." Daryl noticed the blood coming out in waves from her side, and he placed his hands there, trying to keep pressure on the wound.

"We'll keep looking," Carol promised.

"Judith? I remember her crying," Beth whimpered, her eyes filled with tears and fear.

"She's safe. She's safe," Daryl murmured, looking away as the feel of hot blood washing over his fingers continued. Beth's focus dimmed, and she stared up at the night sky. Her features relaxed, and Carol realized she was slipping into shock, something Hershel had told her all about.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Beth murmured. "Daddy says that's a bad sign." She looked at Daryl and then at Carol. A brief smile flickered across her face before her features fell and her eyes drifted shut. "Daddy always said…" Her body went limp, and Carol covered her hand with her mouth, stifling her cries. Daryl felt bile rise in his throat, and he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to throw up. Carol was the one to stick her knife through Beth's temple, making sure she wouldn't turn.

"Daryl," Carol whimpered. "We can't leave her here." A noise from the bushes startled them both, and three walkers came out of nowhere, looming toward them. More were up above on the ravine. Daryl felt sick, but he stood, helping Carol to her feet.

"We ain't got a choice. We can't carry her. Not now. We'll come back tomorrow." They both knew there would be nothing left to come back to tomorrow, but they couldn't risk their lives to get her body somewhere safe to bury. With a hopeless nod, Carol squeezed his hand, and they began to run.

They ran toward a steep incline and pulled themselves up out of the creek bed. Walkers were coming from everywhere now, and they ran, hoping to get enough distance between them and the dead that they could grab their things and hit the road.

They ran up to the house, rushing inside, grabbing their packs, and they rushed to the car. Daryl jumped in the driver's side, started the car, and when Carol slid into the passenger's seat, he slammed the car in reverse, tore out of the drive and headed down the road as the walkers began to flood the highway behind them.

They stopped miles down the road, pulling into an old motel. Daryl went into the office first, gun drawn, and he came out holding a key to room 9. Carol took the key in her hands and was the first to approach the room. When they knew it was clear, they shut themselves up inside and climbed into the bed, lying next to each other, staring up at the ceiling.

Carol sighed, and Daryl turned on his side, watching her worry her lip between her teeth. She turned her head to look at him, tears in her eyes, and she shook her head.

"It's not fair," she said softly. "Beth was…she was…"

"Nothin' 'bout this life is fair," Daryl said quietly, blinking behind the hair that fell into his face. He peered at her, searching her eyes. "'Cept that I got you." He watched her wipe the tears from her eyes, and he brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping at a tear that had gotten away. "Hey." She turned on her side to face him, and he cradled her face in his hands, leaning in to kiss her. "I love you." She sighed against his lips before tucking herself into him, burying her face into his neck.

"I love you," she whispered softly. He held her, stroking her back for the longest time, before she finally pulled back. "I don't want to fall asleep." Daryl eyed her, his hands still caressing her back and her neck. "Don't let me go to sleep." The tears sparkled there still, and he felt her trembling.

"A'right," he murmured, kissing her softly.

"Just help me forget." He knew she was talking about Beth and watching the girl get ripped apart by those things. Her fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his neck, and she leaned in, kissing him desperately. "I just want to forget." Daryl nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. She was clinging to him now, and he'd never seen her quite like this. He didn't know if he should just let her cry or what. But her hands were working at his shirt now, and she was pressing into him, her lips trembling as she kissed him.

"Carol," he murmured, pulling back a little, watching her eyes fly open, seeing the hurt and the fear and the need to escape all at once.

"Please," she whispered.

"Shh," he murmured. "I'm here. I'm here." She clawed at his shirt now, and he sat up a little, sliding it up off of himself. They came together, their limbs moving in a sort of gentle clumsiness, clothes pulling in various directions, flesh sliding against flesh, lips caressing, fingers soothing aches they hadn't known were there.

He took his time with her, as desperately as she tried to urge him on. He moved his body against hers, slowly loving her, taking his time to show her how much he really loved her. He wanted her to feel that he could be there for her however she needed him.

When he kissed the valley between her breasts, she cried out his name softly, arching her back and pushing herself up against him. When he entered her, he held her so close, moved so gently, let her feel everything as if it were in slow motion.

And when they were spent, he held her in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Before they were both consumed by exhaustion and fell fast asleep, the last words he heard her say were "don't let me fall asleep."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"For what?" she asked, pulling her clothes on as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains that morning.

"You didn't want to sleep." Carol smiled sadly at his reminder, and she sat down next to him on the bed. He sat up a little, the bed sheets falling down, covering his lap. "S'about Beth?" He watched her look down. "Couldn't have stopped it." Carol nodded.

Her head was full this morning, images from the past year marching around her head, stirring up memories she'd rather just forget ever happened. But it all came back to that one day, lying under a car, face pressed against the dirty concrete, looking into the fear-filled eyes of her young daughter from just a few feet away. She had been so close, but she'd slipped away, and that had been the last time she'd seen her alive. No mother should have that be the last moment of their precious child.

"I was thinking of Sophia," Carol said softly. "When I saw that happen to Beth, all I could think about was Sophia being alone in those woods, and it all came flooding back to me." She felt the tears edging up again, but she held them back. She couldn't keep on like this, or they'd never get anywhere. Daryl reached out and took her hand.

"There's nothin' we could do," Daryl pointed out. "You know that, right? We didn't have no idea Sophia was gonna run."

"I know," she said gently. "Doesn't make it hurt any less." She sighed softly and leaned back against the bed. He looked down at her, placing his hand on the flat of her stomach through her shirt.

"You wanna go back?"

"Yes," Carol said soflty, "but we should stay. We should look for the others. Maybe they made it. Beth managed to make it as long as she did out in the woods. Maybe some of the others are still out there."

"Alright. We'll keep lookin'." He got out of bed, walking across the room naked. Carol watched him, noticing that he seemed to carry himself with more confidence now. He pulled his jeans and shirt on and grabbed for his boots.

"We'll circle 'round the prison, see if maybe they went in another direction. If they're out there near the road, maybe they left a sign or somethin'."

"Maybe," Carol agreed.

"We don't find anybody today, we'll go back home, get Michonne and bring her. She's a good tracker, and she might be feelin' up to it by the time we get back."

"Deal," Carol said with a nod. "C'mon. Let's go find some breakfast." She grabbed her buck knife and her pistol, tucking them into her boot and belt respectively. When she walked toward the door, Daryl caught her, placing his hands on her hips and chucking her chin, kissing her tenderly.

"I'm with you. Ya know that, right?"

"I know," she said with a smile. "Thank you." She kissed him before heading out to the car to start preparing for today's search.

They circled around the prison, sticking clear of the main highway so close to the gates which were flooded with walkers. The longer they drove, the more it felt like no hope was to be had. Perhaps Beth had been the only other one that got out alive. Maybe she was the last to be killed.

Carol's stomach was growling now, despite the fact that she had no appetite. Daryl glanced at her from the passenger's seat of the car. His ankle was throbbing this morning after all the running they'd done yesterday.

"Need to stop and eat," he insisted. "Gotta keep our strength up."

"There's some jerky in my pack," Carol offered. But she could tell Daryl was itching to get out of the car and hunt something. She pulled over to the side of the road, reached into the back seat and grabbed Daryl's crossbow. He gave her a little half-smile as if she'd read his mind, and they got out of the car. Carol stayed close, her hand resting on the handle of her knife in her belt. Her eyes darted around, searching for any sign of danger. He watched her more than he did the trails of wildlife on the ground. She was fully aware of her surroundings, and she almost looked wild.

"You wanna try?" he asked, holding the crossbow out.

"You already taught me, remember?"

"Never hurts to keep practicin'," he pointed out. She eyed him inquisitively before taking his crossbow in her hands. They walked in silence together, and it wasn't long before Carol was on the trail of a rabbit. They managed to find it after a half hour, and Carol nailed it right through the heart.

Daryl cleaned the animal, and Carol made a small enough fire that they could cook the meat enough that it would be safe to eat. They sat in silence, waiting for the meat to finish, and as they ate, Carol eyed Daryl.

"We should go back," she said quietly.

"To the house?"

"No," she murmured. "I know there's nothing left, but…if there is. She should be buried." Carol knew it was against better judgment to even consider going back to that place, but Beth hadn't deserved the death she got, and she certainly didn't deserve to be left to rot. She deserved a burial. She was one of their people, and as Glenn had said a long time ago, we bury the ones we love.

Daryl chewed slowly, savoring the taste, because who knew how the hell long it would be until they had a hot meal again.

"Alright," he finally agreed. "We'll check around again, see if we can find anything or anybody."

When they were finished eating, Carol quickly tossed dirt on the little fire to snuff out the flames. She and Daryl headed back to the car and drove back toward the little house they'd stayed at the night before. The herd had thinned out a little, and Daryl nodded toward a gap in the trees that looked safe enough to try for.

They barely closed the doors, trying to make as little noise as possible, and he grabbed her hand, wanting to make sure to keep her at his side. This was a dangerous enough idea. He couldn't risk losing her.

They walked hand in hand down the dirt path, being careful not to step on any twigs or make too much noise. They made it down to the creek bed, looking down at the spot where Beth had lay the night before. There was nothing left but a stain of red on the rocks beneath where she had lain. It was just as stomach-turning to think that she'd been ate up by those disgusting things as it was to think of what they would have found had she still been there.

She turned to him, her eyes downcast, staring at their linked fingers. He brought his hand to her cheek, and she looked into his eyes.

"C'mon," he said softly. She nodded and they walked off together, both of them quiet, internalizing the last few days, the horrors of Beth's death flashing before their eyes. They'd seen it again and again since the whole thing started. There was Amy and Jim. Then Jacqui stayed with Jenner at the CDC. She was the lucky one. Then Dale and then Sophia. Now Beth. One would have thought they'd have become desensitized to the horrors, but each death was just as painful as the last.

"Talk to me," Daryl said as they walked slowly back toward the road.

"About what?" Carol asked quietly, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles back and forth.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know about you." He saw a smile pull at her lips.

"Oh, there are a lot of things you don't know about me, Daryl. But I think you know everything important."

"Everything's important," he murmured. Carol eyed him for a moment, and he blinked behind a curtain of shaggy hair. She bit her lip and thought for a moment.

"Well," she said quietly, "when I was sixteen, I got suspended from school for smoking in the girl's bathroom."

"Rebel," he teased.

"Oh, my dad never let me hear the end of that one. Even after I was married," she said softly, her eyes filled with distant memories. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Your turn." She saw him flinch, knowing he wasn't the best at talking about himself. But, if she could open up to him, he could do the same for her.

"Don't remember my mom . I mean, I do but I don't. I remember what she looked like 'cause we had the pictures. I remember some of the things she used to say. Sometimes think I remember her laugh. She didn't laugh much though, 'cause when my old man was around, she wasn't happy. I don't really remember _havin'_ a mom. I just remember her being there. I remember dad hurtin' her. I remember cryin' and Merle tellin' me to shut up and be a man 'fore dad caught me cryin'."

"I used to hide the bruises from Sophia. She came home from school one day and said 'Mommy, what happened?' I forgot about the bruise on my cheek from that morning. After she got on the bus, Ed hauled off and hit me. Said it was my punishment for something I did the week before."

"What'd you do?" Daryl wondered, squeezing her hand as they walked.

"I made up some stupid excuse. I don't thinks he bought it, though. She just came over and hugged me and kissed my cheek and told me she loved me. She was sweet like that." Carol sighed softly and looked up at him. "I miss her. I know I don't talk about her as much as…I don't know…as much as maybe I should. She's on my mind every day. I saw her take her first breath. I heard her cry for the first time. I took care of her for twelve years, and I can remember all of it like it's on replay in my head." Daryl pulled his arm around her shoulder. "I remember her telling me what she wanted to name her babies. Of course, she was twelve and had dreams of having ten kids. They were all going to named after her favorite TV characters. She still had dolls." She brushed the tears back. "I don't know what I'm going on about."

"You never wanted more kids?" Daryl wondered. That caught her off guard a little.

"Ed had his hot and cold moments. One moment he'd tell me he never wanted Sophia. The next, he'd crawl on top of me and tell me he wanted to get me pregnant. He didn't know I was on the pill. I couldn't bring another kid into that. He resented Sophia, but when he was drunk, if he wasn't hitting me, he was…" She shook her head. "I tried to shield Sophia from it as much as I could."

"You were a good mom," Daryl said quietly. "I saw ya with her. Even with everything goin' to hell around us, ya still tried to keep things normal for her. Made her study and read and do things she normally did before…"

"It was kind of for the sake of my own sanity," she confessed. "I wanted a little structure amidst all of the chaos."

They reached the road, and Carol was the first to look up at the road. She stopped and put her hand on Daryl's shoulder. He followed her gaze back to the car, where a figure was trying to break into it.

"Fuck," Daryl mumbled, grabbing his crossbow. Carol brought her hand to her knife and glanced over her shoulder to check for any sign of walkers. There were a few about a half-mile up the road, but they weren't a threat right now.

Daryl aimed his crossbow at the back of the man's head, walking quietly up the road toward the car. Carol took her gun in hand and walked beside him.

"A'right, put your hands up and turn around nice and slow," Daryl called out when they were but a few feet from the car. The figure froze, his shirt stained in blood, his shoulders shaking. He stayed facing the car.

"You heard me, asshole. Turn around." He held his crossbow strong and steady in his hands, and when the figure turned around, they almost didn't recognize him right away. His face was pale and gaunt, and his beard was thick and wild against his face. His shirt was covered in blood, and when he turned completely to face them, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell against the car before slumping down to the ground in a heap.

Carol and Daryl glanced at one another and then put their weapons away, rushing to the slumped heap on the ground. Carol gently placed one hand against his forehead and her fingers against his neck.

"He's burning up," she murmured. She pat his cheek a little.

"He's bleedin' pretty bad," Daryl murmured, lifting the shirt up just enough to see a pretty nasty bullet wound above the kidney and an exit wound coming out of his stomach.

"Put pressure there." Daryl did as he was told. "Looks infected. Looks like he tried to stop the bleeding, or someone did. If we don't get him somewhere soon, he's gonna die." Carol stared down at the pale figure before her.

"Don't think he's gonna make it back to the house." Carol shook her head. She closed her eyes, concentrating, trying to remember things that Hershel had taught her back at the prison.

"Go grab me a bottle of water out of the car. I need a sewing kit, and I think there's a sheet in the back. I need some strips to wash and dress the wound. But I have to be honest, Daryl. I don't know if he has internal bleeding or not. I can sew this up, but if he's bleeding inside…I don't think I can save him." Daryl nodded numbly. "Hurry, Daryl." He snapped out of it and quickly scrambled to gather what Carol had asked him to.

She looked down at the face again, and she gently brushed her hand over his forehead. She took a deep breath and gathered her strength. She had to stay strong. She couldn't break down, because he would die if she froze. She had to keep going. She had to save him.

"Just hang in there, Rick. I'm going to do everything I can. I promise."

_Author's Note: Feedback fuels the muse! Just sayin'! Hope you guys are still enjoying! I appreciate each and every one of you who has taken a minute to let me know what you think. Caryl on!_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Daryl had taken over driving, speeding down the highway going well beyond what used to be the speed limit. Carol kept glancing back into the backseat to see that Rick was still unconscious, and she suspected he would probably remain that way until they got some antibiotics into his system. He was fighting a pretty nasty infection and was on the losing end of that battle.

They were getting close to their turn when Carol looked into the backseat, noticing how still Rick was. She frowned, her brows knitting together, and she reached back, resting her fingers against his neck.

"He alive?" Daryl asked, peering into the rear view mirror. She nodded.

"His pulse is weak, but he's alive." Daryl stepped on the gas, his ankle throbbing. Carol sighed and sank back against her seat. She picked at her pants fabric over her knee, and Daryl notice her nervous gestures.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just..I wasn't expecting to see him."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Daryl muttered.

"I thought I'd be angry," she murmured, staring out the window. "But I'm not. I know it sounds strange, but I don't think…if it wasn't for what Rick did, we might not…things might not be the way they are for us now. Does that make sense?"

"Sure," Daryl ventured, "but it still don't make up for what he did." Carol gave him a sad smile and squeezed his hand.

"That's the past. Let's just get him home for now, ok? Everything else can wait." Daryl grunted and gave a little nod, and they made their turn to go up the drive to the house.

The first thing Carol noticed was that there was another car, and Michonne was outside on the porch with Judith in her arms. Carol breathed a sigh of relief to see her friend was ok, but she was curious about the car now.

Michonne looked up when she heard the tires on gravel. Carol saw Michonne shield her eyes from the sun and peer down the drive at the car before waving them up, a smile pulling at her lips. If Michonne was smiling, things had to be ok, so Carol relaxed a little.

"Who's car?" Daryl muttered, clearly not expecting an answer. He pulled the car to a stop and killed the engine. Michonne tapped on Carol's window, and she rolled it down.

"You're never gonna guess who…" And then she saw him in the back seat, pale and gaunt. Carol saw Michonne's lip tremble, her eyes shining with something that Carol likened to relief and…maybe even the kind of happiness one feels when reunited with someone they love.

"He was trying to break into the car. Must have wandered out of the woods onto the highway," Daryl mentioned. "Carol cleaned and sewed 'im up, but he's pretty sick." Just then the front door opened, and two familiar faces were quickly recognizable as they appeared on the porch. Glenn and Maggie were standing there looking about as dumbfounded as Carol and Daryl must have looked at that very moment.

Maggie was bruised up along her arms, and Glenn had a healing cut along his cheek. They both looked a little worse for wear, but Carol felt the tears in her eyes at the sight of them as they made their way over to the car.

"God, it's good to see you guys," Glenn said with a wide smile on his face. "Michonne told us you found this place."

"We did," Carol said with a nod, getting out of the car and rushing over to hug her friends. Daryl got out and moved to the back door, opening it up.

"We gotta get him inside. Get some medicine in him," Daryl reminded them. Glenn hurried over and helped Daryl pull Rick out of the car. They got him somewhat upright and hurried him into the house, depositing him on the couch.

Carol was the first to grab the medicines she prayed that would work, and she set about dissolving a couple of caplets in water. With the help of Maggie, she managed to get Rick's mouth open so she could spoon some of the medicine into his mouth.

"What happened? I mean, how'd you find him?" Michonne asked, handing Judith over to Maggie and settling down on the floor to tenderly wipe a cool cloth against Rick's forehead. Carol took over doing all of the medicine forcing.

"He was tryin' to break into our car," Daryl repeated. "We was walkin' out of the woods. Got some huntin' done, and he was there." He wanted to mention what had happened with Beth, but with Maggie standing right there with Judith in her arms, it didn't seem like the best time. He'd tell her later. Or Carol would. Or they'd tell her together.

"Did you see Carl?" Michonne asked, her voice hopeful, but her eyes looking void of hope, almost powerless.

"No sign of Carl," Carol said sadly. "Rick was alone, and nobody came out of the woods when he collapsed. "He looked like he'd been walking around half-dead for days." She spooned a little more of the crushed pills and water into his mouth. She figured it was going down, at least, because she could see his Adam's apple bob occasionally.

"Jesus," Glenn muttered. "I can go look if you want." Maggie put her hand on his arm, and he looked at her. "I'm alright."

"We just got here, Glenn."

"It's Carl. He's…he's just a kid."

"Maggie's right," Carol pointed out. "You need to rest. We all do."

"Did you see…I mean…"

"It was a mess," Daryl murmured. Maggie flinched at the weight behind his words. She cradled Judith in her arms, smiling down at her like Beth used to do.

"Well, I'm goin' lookin' for Beth just as soon as we're able," Maggie insisted, handing Judith over to Glenn. "She's bound to think nobody's comin' for her. She's never been on her own before." Maggie had tears in her eyes, and Carol and Daryl shared a glance before the young woman left the room, trying to keep herself together.

Rick's color was coming back by the time they managed to get some dinner cooked up. They sat around the living room with old tin pie pans, their meager portions enough to at least satisfy some of the hunger they were all feeling. Carol made sure to give Maggie and Glenn a little bit extra, since they'd just arrived and looked like they needed it far more than the rest.

Carol noticed the way Michonne would glance over to Rick every so often, her eyes filled with worry. But it had been the way she'd tended to cooling his forehead and even checking his bandages so tenderly that had gotten Carol's attention. She'd never really thought much about Rick and Michonne's friendship, but something had changed between them since Carol had last seen them at the prison.

"He's gonna wake up," Glenn said quietly. "We'll find the rest of the group. It'll be fine." Carol looked up, not exactly sure who he was talking to, but he was staring down at his tin, so she figured anybody was as good as guess and any. She looked at Daryl, and he gave her a little nod. She swallowed hard and placed her plate on the coffee table.

"Maggie," she said quietly, "I need to tell you something." Maggie froze at the tone of Carol's voice, her gaze moving from her plate to Carol's eyes. Maggie braced herself, putting the plate down and immediately reaching for Glenn's hand.

"Ok," the girl murmured, giving Carol a little nod. She'd lost her father, and now, she just knew what she was about to hear. She gripped Glenn's hand, afraid that she wouldn't be able to take this.

"It's Beth," Carol murmured. "She didn't…she's gone. I'm so sorry, Maggie." She watched the tears fill the young woman's eyes. Maggie's shoulders shook, and she fell against Glenn's shoulder, and he held her, eyeing Carol and Daryl worriedly.

"We did the best we could," Daryl offered. "We was just too late."

"I'm so sorry, Maggie," Carol repeated. "If there was anything we could have done…"

"She…she won't turn?" Carol just shook her head. She wasn't about to tell Maggie that there was nothing left of her sister or that they'd watched her get ripped apart. She didn't need to know those things. She needed the truth and that was all. Beth was dead. Everything else was just details.

They sat there in silence, listening to Maggie sniffle and fight back more tears.

"Beth wasn't made for this world," Maggie finally murmured, wiping at her tears. "She wanted to die…after what happened with the walkers in the barn. She wanted…she wanted to die so she wouldn't have to go out like that."

"But she tried," Carol murmured. "She made it as long as she could. She fought. In the end, she fought. But there were too many of them.

"Thanks," Maggie murmured, "you know. I'm glad she…she wasn't alone when she died." She looked at them. "You were with her, right?"

"We were," Carol assured her, her lower lip trembling.

Maggie sniffled and nodded her head, accepting that. She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair and shook her head. First her stepmother, then her dad, now her baby sister. She looked at Glenn, and he kissed her hand. He was what she had left. He was the only family she had left in this entire world.

That night, Carol decided to stay up a while and tend to Rick's wounds. Michonne kept Judith with her upstairs, and Maggie and Glenn retreated to another room Michonne had cleared out for them upstairs. Daryl sat up with Carol and stoked the fire with a few large logs.

"You think Maggie's gonna be ok?" Carol asked quietly, gently lifting up Rick's bandage to make sure he wasn't still bleeding.

"She's a tough girl," Daryl offered. "She's been through a lot, but she's still here. She's gotta be alright, 'cause there's no changin' it."

Carol yawned and covered her mouth, fighting the urge to just curl up under a blanket and fall asleep.

"C'mere," Daryl said quietly, motioning for her to join him next to the fire. Carol glanced at Rick, who was still out cold. "He'll be alright. You gotta sleep. We both do." He grabbed a pillow off the couch, and Carol grabbed two blankets. She covered Rick with one and took the other with her to Daryl. He lay back on the floor, resting his head against the pillow, and he held his arm out for her. She knelt down and curled up next to him, resting her head on his chest. They covered up together next to the fire, and before either of them knew what had hit them, they were fast asleep.

Daryl was the first to wake the next morning, resisting the urge to stretch, because Carol was curled up so comfortably against him. He stroked her shoulder, and she moaned softly in her sleep. He lay there staring at the ceiling, listening for the footsteps of their new housemates. The house was quiet.

A brief glance over toward the couch told him that Rick was still out, whether he was still unconscious or merely sleeping, and he sighed, wondering if Rick was too far gone to come back.

Sensing his heart beating a little faster, Carol stirred, and she opened her eyes to find him peering at her from behind a curtain of shaggy hair. She smiled, loving waking up wrapped in his arms, and for a moment, it was all gone—the walkers, the death, the missing people—and they just had each other.

"Mornin'," he murmured. She stretched upward and pressed her lips against his.

"Morning," she echoed back, her hand gently curling into his shirt, pulling him closer. His hands caressed her under the blanket, moving over her hips and up her back, stroking the soft flesh under her shirt.

Her hands began to move now, moving down his chest and up his shirt, stroking his stomach and sides, making him moan.

"Careful, woman," he murmured against her lips. He tugged her hips, pulling her flush against him, and then he rolled her onto her back, kissing her neck, making her stifle her giggles by biting her lip. Her fingers caressed the back of his neck, threading through his hair. His tongue slid up her neck and to that spot behind her ear, and all rational thought was gone.

His hand moved up her shirt, ghosting across her bare breast. He thought, with some amusement, that she must have gotten up and taken it off in the night. He wasn't going to complain. Not one little bit.

His fingers stroked the peak of her breasts, gently rolling the nipple, eliciting a gasp from her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close as her tongue parted his lips and met his own tongue, warm and eager. Wrapped up in one another, neither of them heard the footsteps approaching, nor did they notice the raised eyebrows or the dropped jaws as Maggie and Glenn came down the steps and happened upon Daryl with his hand up Carol's shirt, firmly grasping her boob as Carol's hand gripped Daryl's ass, pulling his hips down against hers.

"Uh," Glenn murmured as Daryl froze on top of Carol, hand still firmly pressed against her breast. Carol's eyes widened, and she lay her head back, breaking the kiss and turning to look at their captive audience. Daryl didn't look. He buried his face against Carol's neck for a moment before crawling off of her, unhanding her breast and removing his hand from under her shirt.

"Morning." Despite everything, Maggie couldn't help but grin at the sight of two of her friends finally doing something about their pretty obvious feelings for each other.

"Get a good look, ya'll," Daryl grumbled. "Too bad ya don't have that damn camera, Glenn. Get a good damn look."

"Hey, man, sorry," Glenn laughed. "But you're the one that was groping Carol on the floor. I mean, don't get mad at us, dude."

"Fuck off," Daryl grunted, clearly not pleased that his moment with his woman had been interrupted.

"Daryl," Carol chuckled. "It's ok." She sat up next to Daryl and placed her hand on his back.

"So…you two, huh?" Maggie asked, a smile still tugging at her lips.

"Pretty much," Carol said, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head. She felt her heart flutter when Daryl's face turned red.

"Well, it's about time," Glenn beamed. "Seriously, we were all taking bets on when one of you would jump the other one's bones." Maggie nudged her husband in the ribs. "Ow! What?"

"What the fuck?" Daryl asked as Carol covered her mouth and stifled a laugh.

"Hey, leave 'em alone," Michonne scolded, coming down the steps with baby Judith in her arms. She smiled in Carol and Daryl's direction, and the redness dissolved from Daryl's cheeks. Carol squeezed his shoulder, and they got up together as Michonne crossed the room to check on Rick. She touched his forehead gently with her fingertips. "No fever. Didn't wake up at all last night?"

"Didn't hear nothin'," Daryl pointed out. "'Course we was pretty tired. Slept like a baby."

"I bet you did," Glenn teased. Daryl flashed him a 'boy, I will beat the shit out of you' look, and Glenn sobered. "Look, I can do a run into the closest town, see if I can find some more meds."

"No you won't," Carol said with a shake of her head. "We have plenty here for now. He's got antibiotics in his system. We're gonna keep giving them to him, but the rest is up to him, now. He's got to fight this." Daryl couldn't help but feel a smattering of heat across the lower part of his belly at the sight of his Carol taking charge of the situation. She'd become something of a wonder to watch. She might not realize it yet, but she was a hell of a leader.

"I need to do somethin'," Maggie offered. "I can watch Rick for a while. Sit with him, you know? Take my mind off of…everything."

"The antibiotics?" Carol pointed toward the little table they were sitting in. "I know your dad taught you how."

"I've got this. Take a break, Carol." Maggie assured her with a little smile. "I think the hard part's over for him. He's just healing now."

"I'll start breakfast," Carol offered.

"No you won't," Michonne said with a shake of her head, handing baby Judith off to Glenn. "You and Daryl just got back. You need to…rest."

"We just slept," Daryl said, a little puzzled as his brow creased in confusion. Michonne glanced at Glenn and then at Maggie.

"Yeah? Go sleep some more. We've got this." The tone of her voice seemed to mean 'don't make me repeat myself,' but the look in her eye was a sparkling of amusement. Carol looked at Daryl and gave him a little half-shrug.

"Well…call us if you need anything," Carol said awkwardly, her fingers brushing against Daryl's. They backed up toward the staircase, and Glenn let out a snort. It was like they were purposely trying to get them to go to bed together. So why the hell were they still standing there? Daryl turned, and Carol was already halfway up the stairs. _Well, shit. Wait for me._ He hurried up behind her, ignoring the symphony of laughter that followed from downstairs.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_Author's note: What can I say about this chapter? Smut. Smut. More smut. If you've been missing the smuttiness in the last few chapters, I hope this one makes up for it. Did I mention there was smut?_

"What was that?" Carol giggled, her cheeks red, her hair slicked down with sweat against her forehead, as Daryl rested his head against her breasts.

"What?" he asked. She stifled her giggles with her hand. "Somethin' funny?"

"You surprise me every day, Daryl Dixon," she murmured, dragging her fingers gently through his damp hair.

"That a good surprise or a bad one?" he looked up at her, and he looked a little needy, and it made her smile and her heart swell.

"Oh, a good one," she grinned. "You…"

"What the hell you think I think about when we ain't doin' this?"

"You're insatiable," she laughed. "I love you."

"Mmm," he murmured against her lips, kissing her hungrily. "Love you too." He crawled over her again, and she raised an eyebrow.

"So soon?" she teased, her hands moving down his neck and shoulders and over his bare chest. She sighed happily when he leaned down to kiss her neck, his tongue tracing its way down to the hollow of her throat. She moaned, arching into his mouth, his stubble scritch-scratching at her skin in the best way possible.

They'd spent most of the morning just lying in bed, holding each other, listening to the sounds of each other breathing, reveling in the body heat and the comfort of being with each other. At some point, the kisses began, and the next thing they knew, they were tangled up in each other, exploring one another, slowly, enjoying the time they had, while the house was still fairly quiet and the world seemed to slow just enough for them to have this.

Now, as they moved together again, bodies still damp with sweat from the first go-round, he hardened against her thigh, and she reached down between them to wrap her warm hand around him, stroking him, still feeling him slick with her juices.

She caught his exquisite gasp in her mouth, kissing him hungrily, pumping him in her hand. She felt him trembling and let him go to make it last. Her hands moved back up his body, sweeping over his back and shoulders, feeling the scars under her fingertips, taking her time, because she knew she was the only one he'd let see them. They helped make him into the beautiful human being that he was. Somehow, for her, his scars were part of his beauty, and when she traced over them, his previous uncertainties about those markings seemed to fade away. He accepted her scars, and she accepted his.

She spread her legs, and he settled against her, his hand moving to stroke her. Her hips jumped forward at the feel of his calloused fingers against her clit, and she bit her lip, arching her back as he stroked her, and the feeling of her damp and ready for him all over again made him ravenous. She saw his eyes darken with desire, and she pushed upward, feeling his dick against her entrance.

She gave him an encouraging nod, and he slipped into her quickly, the sensation enough to send him over the edge if he hadn't already done just that a few minutes ago. She raked her nails down his back, and he grunted at the little bit of pain. He liked it, and she knew it.

When he pumped into her, angling his hips so his dick slid across the nerves deep inside of her that made those animal noises come out of her mouth, he smirked, and she glared at him, but she pulled him down to kiss her, his lips crushing against hers, teeth raking against flesh, tongues tracing the trails of salty sweat over shoulders and necks and chests.

They tried to be as silent as they could, but it was impossible not to cry out here and there, and when he brought her to another orgasm, her face reddened, and she bit her lips so hard she thought she might have drawn blood, and he knew she was trying so hard not to cry out. A wicked idea crossed his mind, and he reached down between them, just as she was clenching around his cock, and he flicked his thumb over her swollen nub, and it was like she shattered against the mattress, her mouth flying open, her cries piercing the air.

"Oh fuck!" she cried out, her body writhing beneath his as he flicked her little nub again. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she grasped his arms, her nails digging in as he fucked her a little bit faster.

"Aw, Christ," he grunted, when her hand moved to cup his balls, squeezing just firmly enough to get a yelp out of him. When her eyes fluttered open, he saw the devilish grin on her face, and he could just hear her thinking _turnabout's fair play_.

A few moments more of attention like that, and he lost it, shooting deep inside of her, watching the way she smiled up at him as he filled her, warming her.

"Can't get enough of you," he panted, rolling off of her and laying on his side to face her. He watched as her breasts rose and fell as she panted for breath, and he reached over to place his hand over her breast. She laid her hand over his, and they just stared at one another.

"Me too," Carol murmured, rolling to her side and pressing her lips against his.

"You can't get enough of you?" he teased, that sexy half-smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. She made a face at him and kissed him again.

"Only when you're not here." Her voice was silky and low, and he groaned when her hand slipped down his chest.

"You tryin' to kill me with talk like that?" he asked. She blushed, and his eyes bore into hers. "I wanna see you."

"What?"

"I wanna _see_," he urged, his hand now playing with the soft skin just beneath her belly button. Carol bit her lip and eyed him as sparks rippled through her blood at his touch.

"God, what have I done?" she asked, choking out a laugh and covering her face with her hands. "I've created a monster."

He pawed at her hip and nibbled her shoulder, and she moaned softly when he moved lower, taking a nipple between his teeth, gently tugging, rolling his tongue over it for good measure.

"Who's killing who?" she asked, arching her back, holding onto the back of his neck as he sucked at her, teasing her nipple into a hard peak. He released her breast and kissed her neck again before pulling back. She saw the flush in his cheeks, and it warmed her heart to see that, even after all they'd done together, he was a little shy about asking for what he wanted.

"Tell me," she urged, nudging his shoulder.

"You know."

"I want you to tell me. Let me hear it." He sighed and caressed her inner thigh, opening her up, stroking her wetness with two fingers. "Daryl, please. Let me hear you say it." He chewed his lip nervously, watching the way she writhed so beautifully under his touch.

"I want to see you touch yourself," he finally blurted out, his face reddening again, his body tense with anxiety. A wide grin spread over her face, and he saw the flicker in her eyes.

"Why?" she prodded. He grunted. _Knew she was gonna ask. Tease_.

"'Cause I wanna see what you do to yourself when you're alone." Carol nearly choked that he just out and said it, but it ignited a fire inside of her, and she certainly didn't want to disappoint him. With a sigh, she drew him in for another kiss.

"I'm kinda rusty," she blushed. "Haven't had much _alone_ time lately. Not that I'm complaining." She stroked his cheek. "Okay. Move that chair over there." She motioned for him to move a chair from the corner to right at the foot of the bed so he could have a good show. He did as she asked, no questions. "Have a seat." He sat down, completely naked, his dick starting to stir again at the soft but firm tone of her commands. "Now when I get started, you can't touch me. You asked for this, so you're gonna have to wait your turn, alright?"

His mouth went dry, and he nodded mutely, his eyes focusing on the peaks of her breasts and a sweat trail that went from her neck all the way down to the soft curls between her legs.

Carol's hands shook as she scooted back on the bed, lying down half-way, her back propped up with pillows. Her eyes met his, and she bit her lip, nervously trailing one hand down her neck. She flicked her fingers briefly across one breast moaning softly of the sensation of her sensitive flesh being touched by herself. She closed her eyes, sinking back against the bed, her legs spreading. She could hear his breath quicken just a few feet away, and she smiled softly, dipping her hand briefly between her legs, circling her clit a couple of times, finding herself to be extremely sensitive after the last hour they'd spent in the room all alone together, exploring and loving each other.

He watched in amazement, barely blinking, as she touched herself. He watched her bring her soaked fingers up again, spreading her own juices over her nipple, and his mouth watered. He wanted to taste her so badly, but he remembered her telling him to wait his turn. He didn't want to ruin this beautiful moment, so he kept himself seated, gripping the arm of the chair to keep from pouncing on her.

She was lost in it now, one hand caressing her breasts one at a time, arousing her nipples with little flicks and pinches, as the other hand worked between her legs, her fingers touching her most intimate area, caressing the soft folks, slick with her own juices. He groaned when his dick came alive again, bobbing heavily in his lap, and he couldn't resist gripping himself around the base of his shaft, stroking upward as she stroked herself.

Carol heard the slide of his hand against his dick and opened her eyes, nearly coming at the sight of him stroking himself, beads of sweat pearling at his brow. She threw her head back again, her heart pounding in her chest, her muscles clenching involuntarily. She inserted two fingers inside, feeling her walls close in around her. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, seeing tiny bursts of bright, white light as her nerves seemed to all fire at once. She cried out, biting down on her lip as her orgasm slammed into her at full force.

When she relaxed against the bed, her muscles still pulsating from the fourth orgasm she'd had that morning, she opened her eyes again, watching as his hand stilled on his dick, and she motioned him over to the bed.

"C'mere," she said sleepily. He stood, awkwardly, erection in hand, and he moved to the bed, lying down beside her. "Your turn." She took his wrist in her hand and moved his hand away from himself. She curled hand, stills lick and warm from her fluids, and began to stroke him down to the base and then all the way to the top.

"Jesus…fuck!" Daryl growled from between clenched teeth. Carol curled her body up to his, kissing his neck as she stroked him, and he leaned back, letting the sensation of her mouth and her hand on him overtake him.

She stroked him until she saw his whole body tense, his eyes screw shut and his head fall back, and then she let go of him, crawling over him, settling between his legs and bowing her head down to take his tip between her lips.

"Holy shit, fuck, Carol, I'm gonna…"

"Shh," she murmured. "Let me taste you." Somehow, this wild desire of Daryl's to see her touch herself had brought out a little more boldness in her. She watched his eyes roll back when she enveloped the head of his dick in her mouth again, this time rolling down, taking him in deep, her tongue stroking him, making his hips jerk violently. She put one hand on his hip, trying to steady him, and she pumped him with her other, teasing him with her fingers and her mouth, and it wasn't long before she felt the warm spray at the back of her throat and tasted him on her tongue. She pulled back, watching as he struggled for breath, his lips trembling from the intense shock her hot mouth had brought to him.

Somehow, in this little room with just the two of them, everything else had disappeared. In the bubble their room provided them, they were just two people in the world enjoying and exploring their new relationship. The strange thought that if this wasn't the end of the world, they'd probably be picking out china patterns by now stuck Carol's mind, and it made her smile a little. He looked up at her through the fringe of hair in his face, and she bit her lip.

"You're awesome," he murmured. He couldn't really come up with any other words, and while he felt a little stupid, he knew 'awesome' pretty much summed it up. Carol laughed a little and shook her head, crawling back up to lay next to him.

"Well, thank you, Daryl," she grinned. "You're pretty awesome yourself." Daryl chuckled and rolled his eyes at her as she rested her head on his chest. After a few beats, she chuckled.

"What?"

"They're gonna wonder…"

"They know exactly what we're doin'," he laughed. "These walls ain't soundproof."

"It's your fault," she teased, poking his stomach.

"You're welcome." He raised an eyebrow, and she blushed. She slapped his naked thigh playfully, and eye eyed her. "That the way you wanna play?"

"You're telling me you have another round left in you?"

"Gimme a minute," he said, a look on intense concentration spreading over his face. This made Carol completely lose it, burying her face against his chest as she laughed, not caring who heard at all.

"If we'd known it could be like this," she finally murmured after she'd sobered, "we could have been doing this a long time ago."

"Yeah, well, we still got a lot of lost time to make up for. You game?"

"Oh, I'm game," she assured him, stroking his cheek and kissing him once again. For them, the flame seemed eternal, and if they weren't careful, they might never leave that bed again.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

It took three days for Rick to wake up. When he did, everybody was practically shoving food at him, insisting he eat to keep his strength up. He was quite weak and dehydrated, but everybody took turns making sure Rick was taking antibiotics and eating. It was Daryl's turn.

He tossed the bottle of pills at him and gave him a bottle of water.

"Here, take this."

"You my nurse now?" Rick asked, wincing as his stitches pulled when he sat up.

"Just take 'em." Daryl had been civil to him since he woke, and that was about as good as he got, but clearly, the archer was having more and more trouble holding back. Daryl eyed him as he took one of the pills and drank it down with a large gulp of water. He handed both bottles back to Daryl, and Daryl handed him a few pieces of jerky.

"Daryl, I can't thank you and Carol enough for what you done for me. If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead."

"That's all Carol. She sewed your ass up, made sure your wounds were clean. She saved your life, man." Rick eyed Daryl. He'd gotten the idea that something was different between Carol and Daryl. Their usual stolen glances had much more behind them now, but he hadn't dared to say anything. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off Daryl given the last big conversation they'd had had happened when Daryl had stormed away from the prison.

"Daryl…"

"You don't know her," Daryl said, crouching down by the fireplace, throwing another piece of wood in the flames.

"I take it you know her better than anybody." He caught Daryl's gaze and held a hand up. "I'm sayin'…I'm sayin' I'd like to talk to her. You haven't exactly given me a chance to talk to her in private. You don't leave her side when she's with me."

"You threw her out like garbage, so excuse me if I ain't keepin' an eye on things." Rick sighed and leaned back against the couch.

"I don't agree with what she did or how she did it, but that's over now. She saved my life, and I'd like to talk to her." Daryl eyed him, and finally decided that if they were all going to be living under one room, they might as well get this out of the way.

"I'll go get her," he murmured. "But if you so much as make her cry, I ain't got no problem beatin' the shit out of you. Don't care how many stitches you got."

"Daryl, please, just get her," Rick urged, exasperated. Daryl finally obliged, heading up the stairs to find Carol.

Carol sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands. She was thinking hard about something when he walked into their room. She hadn't even heard him come in, and she was usually pretty spot on when she heard somebody on the stairs, given the doors didn't have the best of locks, and Glenn had almost walked in on them twice in the last two days.

"Carol?" Daryl asked. She snapped her head up to look at him, and he couldn't read her. He narrowed his eyes. "You ok?"

"What? Oh, I'm fine. I'm fine. What is it?"

"Rick wants to talk to ya. I told him I'd beat the shit out of him if he upsets ya." Carol gave him a little half-smile.

"Well, I'm not afraid of Rick Grimes," she pointed out. "And at this point, I really can't afford to look back." Daryl kept watching her, wondering what was on her mind. She stood and crossed the room, but he blocked her in the doorway.

"You sure you're ok?" he asked. She gave him a smile and kissed him softly.

"Sure. I'm ok. Let me go get this over with, huh?" He just nodded and stepped out of the way so she could go downstairs and talk to Rick. He decided he was going to stay close by, so he sat on the landing and waited, worrying an old arrow between his hands, wondering what Rick would say to her, what she'd say to him.

Carol approached the couch, where Rick was lying back with his eyes closed, his thumb and forefinger pressed against the bridge of his nose.

"You wanted to talk to me?" she asked, her words even and unwavering. He looked up at her, watching the way she walked over to him, back straight, carrying herself so confidently with her knife protruding from her belt.

"Yeah. Wanted to talk to ya without Daryl giving me the evil eye." His attempt at humor didn't exactly work. Carol just stared at him. "Look, what happened at the prison…"

"We already talked about that," Carol pointed out. "You know what happened. You know why it happened." She eyed him and sat down in the nearby rocking chair. "The last month or so have changed me a lot more than I thought. You were right. I made it on my own. And then Daryl found me. Or I found him. I'm not exactly sure what happened there." He watched her as a little smile tugged at her mouth as she spoke of Daryl. "I thought about beating myself up. I thought about hating myself for what I did. But the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that I did the right thing. They were going to die. Very painfully. And then they were going to get up and kill other people. They could have killed you. Or Carl. Or Judith." Her words were even and jabbed at him.

"I know that now," Rick said quietly. "I still don't agree with the way you did it, but you made a choice."

"I made a choice. It's mine to live with." She folded her arms across her chest, but to him, it almost looked like she was protecting herself. "Can you accept that?" Rick was quiet for a moment.

"I've made my own choices. So yeah, I can." He looked away, and for a moment, Carol wondered what had happened to him since the prison fell. What kind of choices had he had to make? But she decided against broaching the subject.

"Alright," Carol said quietly. Then she lowered the boom. "Now if you're gonna stay here, we need to be clear on a couple of things." Rick looked up at her in surprise. "We have a good thing going here, Rick, and we'd like to stay and try to make it work until we think of something better."

"Alright," he said slowly.

"You're not in charge, Rick. You don't lead me. You don't lead Daryl. We've survived pretty well on our own without having somebody ordering us around. We don't need that here."

"This is your house," Rick said with a shrug, as if he'd never given leadership a thought here. "Your rules. Your decisions." Carol nodded, feeling a little better now.

"We don't go anywhere on our own. After what I saw happen to Beth Greene, I don't ever want to see somebody going out there alone, even if it's just to hunt or check the perimeter. We go in twos or threes."

"You really think Daryl's gonna go for that?" Rick asked with a little laugh.

"Daryl understands how I feel about that," Carol replied, rocking in the chair a little.

"Alright, I can accept that," Rick said with a nod. "We're clear."

"Good." Carol said softly, a little smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad you're feelin' better. And you're welcome here. Judith needs a place to call home." She eyed him, seeing the sadness in his eyes. "And we're not finished looking. We'll keep looking for the rest of them. Carl, Sasha, Tyreese, Bob. They might still be out there. I'm not giving up, so you aren't either, alright?" He nodded.

"Thank you, Carol. For everything."

"No need for thanks," Carol murmured. "We're family, and we're not giving up on each other." He was quiet again, and she stood and walked out of the room and up the stairs. Daryl was standing n the landing now, waiting for her. She saw the grin on his face and shrugged her shoulders.

"What?" she asked.

"My girlfriend's hot when she's in charge."

"I'm not in charge," she said with a roll of her eyes. She paused. "Girlfriend? Is that what I am to you?" She watched him shift nervously now, and she tugged at his shirt, bringing him in for a kiss.

"Well, I been tryin' to figure out a label for it."

"So that makes you my boyfriend?" she asked with a little giggle. He made a face.

"Well, you put it that way, I ain't so sure about that," he muttered. She laughed at that and kissed him again. His hands moved to her hips, and she moaned softly against his lips. "How about this? You're mine…and I'm yours?"

"Yeah," Carol said softly, sighing against his lips. "I think I can live with that."

The rest of the afternoon, Rick lay on the couch, as ordered by everyone so he wouldn't break a stitch, and everybody else went about arranging the house to accommodate everybody. Daryl and Carol claimed Daryl's room just for them, while Michonne gave Carol's old room to Glenn and Maggie because the bed was larger. The small room down the hall, Michonne took for herself, and an office had been cleared out and a bed set up for Rick when he was stronger.

"We're gonna have to start sharing when more people show up," Daryl pointed out, leaning against the door frame as Carol straightened the sheets on their bed. She smiled at the hopeful tone in his voice. He actually was planning on more of their group being found, and that made her happy. Still, she turned back to her chore, her eyes showing that something else was clearly on her mind.

"Carol, what's goin' on? Somethin' on your mind?"

"I'm alright," she assured him.

"Liar," he grumbled. She sighed and moved toward him, placing her hands on his shoulders and kissing his lips.

"I have a lot on my mind," she assured him, "but I'm ok." She swallowed hard. "I think we need to make a supply run."

"Alright, I'll get my pack."

"I was actually thinking of taking Michonne," Carol said quietly. She saw the hurt puppy look hit his face. "It's just that Rick needs some help getting around and going to the bathroom and things. He might be more comfortable with a man around to help with those things."

"Oh. A'right," he said with a shrug. "Be safe?"

"Always," she assured him, kissing him again. She moved past him, and he still wasn't entirely convinced that she was a hundred percent alright, but he figured she'd talk to him when she was ready to. For now, he would let her go and worry about her until she came back.

Michonne sat in the passenger's seat as Carol drove down the road in silence. She let her do the navigating, since Carol was more familiar with the area. Michonne let the silence go for a while, but now she was bored, her mind was drifting to Rick and his wounds back home, and she needed a distraction.

"So, how'd it happen?" she asked. She'd been excellent at girl talk a long time ago, way before the samurai sword and the walkers without jaws and arms. She'd actually been the kind of girl that loved girls nights and gossip over drinks. The lack of action the last week or so had got her to thinking that maybe, someday, there would be time for that again.

"What?" Carol asked, stirred out of her thoughts.

"You and Daryl have been making eyes at each other since I first met you people," Michonne pointed out. "You said it just happened. Not much for the details."

"Not really," Carol replied, trying to sound stern, but she couldn't help the grin that played over her lips. Michonne's eyes sparkled, and she practically shot up in her seat.

"So, is he as rough and tumble as I think he is?"

"What?!" Carol nearly choked, and she gripped the steering wheel to keep the car steady. Michonne laughed.

"I knew it. He's all animal, huh?"

"I'm _not_ talking about t that!" Carol laughed. "Michonne, I never would have thought _you_'_d _be the gossip. Glenn, yes, but…"

"Damn," Michonne laughed with a shit-eating grin on her face, settling back against the car seat. "I knew it. The noises he had you making were pretty much proof of that."

"Oh my God." Carol's face was red now, and she'd forgotten all about the all the things that had been on her mind earlier, even if it was for a few moments. "Why don't you talk to Glenn and Maggie? They seem kinky enough that they'd give you all the details you want."

"Pssh," Michonne shrugged, "we all know how Glenn and Maggie are. They're not exactly shy when they're behind closed doors. They leave very little to the imagination."

"Well, I'm not saying a word," Carol grinned.

"But you're happy," Michonne murmured, tilting her head to the side. "You light up when he's around."

"Daryl's…I can't explain it," Carol said softly, opening up a little more. She'd never really been one for the girl talk before. She'd always been terrified of saying anything to anybody about her life with Ed, even when the times were good, because she'd have been mortified had word of it gotten back to him, and he'd have made her pay for it. "He's a good man."

"Aw, come on. That's all I get?" She nudged Carol's shoulder with her hand. "How good?"

"What's gotten into you?" Carol laughed. "You've been difference since Rick showed up." She saw a shadow ghost over Michonne's face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say there was something between you two." The other woman tried so hard to keep a straight face, but she couldn't resist a little smile.

"Not really," Michonne said mysteriously. Carol eyed her and looked back at the road. "There was…something. Before the governor, I mean. I thought it was going to be something else, but it wasn't."

"Oh, that's clear," Carol teased.

"You're lucky, Carol. You've got a man who knows what he wants, and from the sounds of things the other day, he's not afraid to show you."

"You'd be surprised," Carol said softly, a little blush creeping over her cheeks.

"Oh, do tell." Carol sighed, knowing Daryl would be furious and probably avoid Michonne for days if he found out Carol said anything, so she reeled it in a little and gave Michonne what she wanted.

"He's a little shy, but that's _not_ a bad thing. Sometimes, it makes it better." She left it at that, and Michonne's mouth dropped a little. Carol covered her mouth with her hand, and she bit back a laugh. Then Michonne burst out laughing, and the two lost it together. Carol took a deep breath, her heart lighter than air, and she felt truly happy, and she felt even better having someone to talk to that wasn't Daryl. As much as she loved him, sometimes a woman needed to talk to another woman about these things. She was pretty sure she found that friend in Michonne.

"Alright, where we starting?" Michonne asked, as they pulled themselves out of the car and surveyed the town. This was one Carol hadn't been too yet, so she had her knife and gun out, ready for anything.

"Let's start at the pharmacy. Rick's gone through a lot of the antibiotics. We should stock up."

"Sure," Michonne said with a nod, drawing her sword. There seemed to be no sign of walkers, unless the one that was half-squashed in the street and stuck to the pavement counted. It gasped and snarled when it caught sight of the two women, but it couldn't do a thing about it.

Carol led as they walked up to the pharmacy. She kicked the door and then pressed her ear against it, listening. She heard shuffling inside, and then a snarl, and in a moment, an emaciated corpse banged into the door, its teeth chipping at the translucent glass.

Michonne reached for the door, pulling it open easily, and the walker fell down against the concrete. Carol grabbed her knife, but Michonne acted first, sticking the blade of her sword into the walker's skull. Carol gave Michonne a thankful nod, and the two peered into the pharmacy, looking for any sign of more danger. When they were satisfied, they stepped in, and both went over the counter to check the antibiotics.

Michonne grabbed painkillers, while Carol grabbed antibiotics. Her eyes darted back and forth over the labels. She'd gotten pretty good and figuring out what exactly was what, and if she wasn't sure, there was usually always a guide under the counter somewhere that would tell her exactly what it was in the bottle.

Then she spotted another bottle on the shelf and quickly looked around, seeing if Michonne was watching. When she was confident that she wasn't, Carol slipped it into the bag and zipped up.

"I'm gonna go grab some soaps and stuff. You need anything?" Carol asked.

"We're running low on tampons," Michonne called. "Oh, and grab some condoms." Carol's stomach flip-flopped. "Maggie nudged me as we were leaving. They're almost out. Grab some for you and Daryl, too." Michonne laughed, and Carol chewed her lower lip, grabbing bars of soap off the shelves. She then went to the feminine hygiene area and grabbed three boxes of tampons and a few boxes of condoms. She knelt down, checking for painkillers for cramps, and she plucked a few off the shelf and slid them in the bag. Then, her eyes settled on the box on the bottom shelf, and she swallowed hard. She grabbed three and stuffed them in the bag.

"Michonne?" she asked, her voice a little shaky. "I'm gonna check the back and see if there's anything back there we can use.

"Sure. Meet you back out here in five, or I'm coming after you."

"Got it," Carol said with a quick nod. She hurried into the store room, moving her flashlight around to check for walkers. It was clear. A few soda machines and tables were scattered around, and a sign that said EMPLOYEES ONLY hung by one chain on the ceiling. She searched around and found the door off to the side and breathed a sigh of relief.

She walked in and closed the door, placing the flashlight on the counter. She shakily opened her bag and took out one box, her fingers fumbling as she worked at tearing open the cardboard. She swallowed hard, her stomach turning as she removed the little plastic baggie. She tore it open and held the stick in her hands.

"This is _stupid_," she muttered to herself, about to stuff it back in her pack, but stopping herself. "_Shit._" Finally, she just did it. She pulled her pants down and squatted over the toilet, putting the little plastic stick between her legs. She closed her eyes, shaking her head the whole time as she did her business, and when she was done, she placed it on the sink long enough to do up her pants. She found a bottle of hand sanitizer nearby and pumped some out onto her hand, rubbing her hands together nervously as she stood there with only the light of the flashlight to comfort her.

She was immediately taken back to a time about a year after Sophia was born when she paced back and forth for ten minutes, waiting for that stick to tell her what she dreaded. And thank _God_ it had been negative, because there had been no way she'd ever even consider bringing another child into that life.

And now, as she stood at that sink, looking at her tired face in the mirror, she felt tears sting her eyes. _How could I let this happen? I can't be. I can't be pregnant. It's just a scare. It'll be alright._

She swallowed hard, took the test in her hands and peered down, holding her breath, not sure what she was praying for but hoping that everything would be ok, no matter what the result.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Carol was quiet the entire ride home. Michonne couldn't even get her to open up a little bit. Finally, she resigned herself to driving in silence. Carol had asked her to drive, so she could get used to the route back to the house, but really, she figured that something had happened at that pharmacy that Carol just didn't want to talk about.

"You sure you're ok?" Michonne tried once again, knowing she'd not get much out of her.

"I'm fine." She was white-knuckling the door handle.

"Somethin' wrong with my driving?" Michonne ventured.

"What? Oh, no. No."

"What happened, Carol?" Michonne urged. "Something must've happened."

"Nothing," Carol sighed. "I just have a lot on my mind. Really. I'm fine."

"Well, that might work on Daryl, but it doesn't work on me."

"It _doesn't_ work on Daryl, but he usually knows when to stop pushing me," Carol pointed out with a half-smile. Michonne rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"Alright, don't tell me. But I do have to tell you that I've been told in the past that I'm very helpful when somebody needs someone to talk to." Michonne flashed her a prize-winning smile and Carol snorted.

"It's something I probably need to talk to Daryl about first."

"Oh, a relationship thing. I get it," Michonne said with a nod. "Do I need to kick him around the yard a little bit when we get home?" Carol laughed at that.

"No, everything's…it's fine," Carol said quietly. She leaned against the seat and closed her eyes, hoping Michonne would take that as a sign not to pry any further. Luckily, Michonne took the hint and continued their drive in silence.

Daryl was sitting on the porch when they got back, and he was already standing in the drive when the car pulled to a stop. Michonne saw Carol's face light up when she saw him, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"How'd it go?" he asked, pulling his arm around Carol's shoulder when she got out of the car.

"It was fine. We only ran into one walker. Michonne took him down pretty easily." Daryl nodded to Michonne, who was already on her way up the porch steps with her pack. Carol's pack rattled as she slung it over her back.

"Need some help with that?"

"I've got it," she said with a soft smile. When the front door opened and closed, Daryl turned and pulled Carol against him, kissing her hungrily. She gasped against his lips but sunk into him, her hands caressing the back of his neck and his shoulders. When he pulled back, she blinked a couple of times in surprise, and he gave her that half-grin. "I should leave more often if I'm gonna get that welcome back."

"Missed you," he murmured, toeing the dirt with his boot. Carol bit her lower lip, blushing a little.

"Daryl, I was only gone a few hours." Daryl shrugged, his cheeks turning red, too. "I missed you too." She kissed him softly, and they walked hand-in-hand into the house.

Michonne was already at Rick's side, her head bowed low near his, probably talking about how things went on the run. He had baby Judith in his lap, and she was playing happily with a little toy they'd found in the house. Glenn and Maggie were nowhere to be found, so that meant they were probably upstairs enjoying each other's company. Carol watched Rick and Michonne for a moment and noticed they were kind of in their own little world. She squeezed Daryl's hand and they walked up the stairs together to their room.

Once inside, Carol nervously put the pack on their bed. He could see the tenseness return to her face, and he leaned against the door.

"You gonna tell me now?" he asked quietly.

"Daryl," she said quietly, "I need you to see something."

"Alright," he said with a nod. "You get hurt?"

"No, it's nothing like that," she assured him, her hands shaking as she unzipped her pack. She pulled an opened box out and slid what looked like a deformed toothbrush out. Daryl cocked his head to the side, thinking that little thing looked kind of familiar.

Carol gripped it in her hands for a moment, eyeing Daryl's face as he looked at what was in her hands.

"Is that…"

"A pregnancy test? Yeah," Carol said quietly. "I took it back at the pharmacy. I was feeling kind of funny, and then I realized my period was late. Of course, I've never been very regular. I was on birth control, but the stress from my marriage, from Ed, well, I was usually a nervous wreck, so that can affect things." She watched Daryl swallow and his breathing quicken a little. "Then everything happened with the walkers and Sophia and the prison, and my body really never had a chance to get back to normal. I thought it was the change." She laughed a little.

"You're too young for that," Daryl said, furrowing his brows.

"My mother was forty when she went through it," Carol pointed out. "I'm forty-two." She smiled a little. "I didn't want more kids after Sophia. I told you about that. I told you why." He nodded. "And I guess I got a little too comfortable with my idea that I was maybe going through the change, and I got careless."

"Carol, what're you gettin' at? Are ya pregnant?" She handed the test over to him with a little shrug. He looked down at it and then back up at her.

"What's it mean?"

"This particular test," she said, studying the box, "has two pink lines if you're pregnant. Nothing if you're not."

"What's that?" he asked, squinting at the little piece on the front that was supposed to show the results. "That a pink line? And there?"

"I think so," Carol said quietly. "These tests are at least a couple years old, so it could be faulty." He couldn't tell if that was hope in her voice or not, and he looked back at her.

"So…you're pregnant?" Carol had tears in her eyes now when he looked back up at her. "Hey, c'mere." He pulled her into his arms, his heart thundering against his chest, as he willed his fears not to take over. They sat down on the bed together, and she was shaking, trying not to cry.

He rubbed her shoulder, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"It's gonna be ok," he said quietly, trying to convince not only her, but himself as well.

"We don't know that, Daryl," Carol murmured, pulling back to look at him. "Look what happened to Lori. And I'm not as young as I was when I had Sophia. What if…"

"Hey," he said, shaking his head. "Don't think about that."

"I can't help it, Daryl. I feel so…stupid," she cried out. "I knew better, but I just…I just completely gave myself over to the idea that it wouldn't happen to me, and that's…"

"Carol," he said quietly, stroking her thigh. "We made it this far. We ain't gonna stop. We ain't gonna lose each other, alright?"

"You can't control everything, Daryl," she sniffled, wiping her eyes with her hands. "What could we give a kid in this world? I feel safe here, but with a baby?" She shook her head.

"Hey," Daryl insisted, "we do alright with 'Lil Asskicker, don't we? It's gonna be alright, Carol. It will." Carol sniffled and took a few gasping breaths, trying to even her breathing. Daryl glanced down at Carol's flat tummy, and he placed a hand over it gently, eyeing her nervously. She couldn't help but smile through her tears

"You want this baby," she realized.

"Hell, I ain't never expected to be nobody's daddy," he muttered, "but maybe it's a sign."

"Daryl Dixon," Carol sniffled, "you continue to surprise me."

"What? You thought I'd be mad? That I wouldn't want it?"

"Didn't know what you'd think. I'm terrified, Daryl."

"So am I," he admitted. "You don't want the baby." Carol burst out in tears at that point, and she shook her head. "Hey, I'm sorry. Carol? Are you…"

"No, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't think…after Sophia…" She shook her head. "I could never give up a baby…not after what happened with Sophia. I can't even consider that. I'm just…I'm terrified. I didn't think this would happen." He pulled her into his arms again, and she let herself shatter against him. He gathered her up, pulling her into his lap, and she cried against his neck. As he listened to her choked sobs, he caressed her back and tried not to think of all the bad things that could happen. Carol was pregnant. With his baby. And it surprised him more than it probably surprised her that the idea, while terrifying, wasn't such a bad thing in his mind. Could he be a good dad? Could he be what Carol needed in a partner to raise a kid? These were questions that hadn't even crossed his mind. Ever. But now the possibility was very real, very present, staring him in the face, and he was utterly terrified. But at the same time, he felt something new in his heart that he couldn't explain, and when he looked at Carol, he knew that this was supposed to happen.

He couldn't lose her. He wouldn't. They would find a place to go that she would feel safe. Maybe they would even find a doctor. Maybe…

"Daryl," Carol murmured softly, finally looking up into his eyes, searching them frantically. "I don't want to tell anybody. Not until we're absolutely sure. I mean…that test could be wrong, like I said. I just…I don't want anybody to know. I know how they looked at Lori when they found out, and I couldn't take that. I need…I need some time."

"Sure," he murmured, kissing her softly. "Anything you need. I'm here, you know." She nodded and sniffled again, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Thank God," she murmured. "Thank God for you, Daryl Dixon."

That night, Daryl paced the floor of their bedroom nervously as he waited for Carol to return from the bathroom. She'd taken the rest of the tests with her, because they wanted to make sure.

When he heard her feet padding across the floor, he froze and sat down on the end of the bed. She walked in, her hands clutching the sticks, and he eyed her. Her face was pale, and when she sat down next to him and showed him the results, he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

"We're havin' a baby?" he murmured, taking her hand in his and giving it a little squeeze.

"We're having a baby," she murmured, her eyebrows raised, as if she was hearing it for the first time. He pulled his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. "It feels strange to say it." Daryl reached over for the second time that day and put his hand on her stomach. She looked down, smiling as the tears fell, and she put her hand over his.

"I'm scared," she whispered, snuffling and biting her lower lip.

"Me too," he admitted. "But we can do this, Carol. We can." She nodded, deciding to trust his hope, and she leaned in to kiss him. "Love you."

"Love you, too," she murmured, smiling again when he wiped away her tears with his thumb. "We're gonna need a bigger house." He chuckled and gave her a little nod. "This house is getting pretty full."

"Our 'Lil Asskicker won't take up that much room," he pointed out. Carol laughed at that.

"Now you can't give our baby the same nickname as Judith. She was here first, so she gets first dibs. You'll have to come up with something else for our baby."

"I'll work on it," he chuckled and inhaled the scent of cooking meat that was now wafting up the stairs. "C'mon. Let's go get somethin' to eat. Gotta make sure you're eatin' right."

"I don't know about eating right," Carol laughed. Stale cereal and numerous woodland creatures probably wasn't exactly the best diet for an expectant mother, but it was better than nothing. "Oh, that reminds me." She grabbed her pack and pulled out one of the bottles she'd grabbed from the pharmacy. They were prenatal vitamins. She shook them in front of Daryl and smiled sheepishly. "I figured…just in case. Good thinking, huh?" Daryl pulled her down into his lap and captured her lips between his. She moaned softly against his lips and wished she could keep on kissing him forever.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"We gotta tell 'em."

"I'm not ready yet," Carol insisted. "I'm not ready to share this yet."

"You gonna wait 'til the kid comes out so it can tell 'em itself?"

"No," she laughed.

"Well, why not now?" His hand played lazily over the small bump of her belly. This particular winter night was so cold that they were snuggled under the covers, and his hand was ghosting across her belly under the fabric of her shirt.

"I'm not ready," she repeated, running her fingers through his hair. "When they find out, it's all going to change."

"They're gonna figure it out soon."

"Are you saying I'm getting fat?" she teased. He eyed her, knowing better than to answer that with an affirmative. She wasn't getting fat at all, actually. Given the scarcity of food, she was still very slender, but her belly was getting bigger, and she did a good job of hiding it. She wouldn't be able to hide it much longer, though.

"You ain't fat," he promised her, caressing the swell of her belly.

For three months, they'd enjoyed this secret themselves, and by Carol's calculation, she was about fourteen weeks along. She hadn't been far along at all when she'd taken the test, her symptoms occurring so early in the pregnancy, just as they had when she'd been expecting Sophia. She'd known her body so well, irregular periods and all, and she'd known something was going on when she'd taken that test.

Everything seemed to be going well now. Carol felt good. The nausea was all but gone, only showing up every once in a while to remind her to eat or to slow down or to take better care of herself.

"We need to start thinking about moving on," Carol murmured quietly, looking up at the ceiling as Daryl continued stroking her stomach. They had been waiting, hopeful, since Maggie and Glenn had been found, but nobody else had come. No sign of Carl, Sasha, Tyreese, Bob or anybody else.

As they days wore on, Rick seemed to become more attached to baby Judith, not letting her out of his sight for more than a few minutes, unless he went on a run with Michonne, leaving Judith in the care of someone safely at home.

The idea that the rest of them might be dead was weighing heavy on everyone's minds, but they knew that there was nothing they could do. Watching Beth get ripped apart by walkers had solidified that notion for Carol, who still had nightmares about it once in a while. The sad thing was that this was a part of life now. People let their guards down, people got bit, people died, people came back and tried to bite others. It was a sick joke, but it was their reality.

Still, in the solitude of their room, Carol managed to find a kind of comfort that she'd thought was long gone with the rest of the world. Feeling Daryl's arms around her, listening to his breath and feeling his hands moving over her skin was one way she could forget about the problems outside that door for just a little while. It wasn't much, but it was enough sometimes.

"I'm almost out of prenatal vitamins," Carol remembered.

"I'll go in the mornin'."

"I'll go with you."

"I got this," Daryl urged.

"Nobody goes alone, remember."

"I'll take Glenn," Daryl said with a shrug. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yeah, and then our secret will be out. What exactly do you think he's gonna think when he sees you perusing the shelves for prenatal vitamins?"

"He won't know," Daryl pointed out.

"Daryl? You do _remember_ Glenn, don't you? He seems to find out everything. He has that irritating habit, you know." Daryl chuckled at that, and Carol smiled. "Besides, I'd like to get out of the house for a little while. I'm going stir crazy. I'm not some helpless little woman just because I'm pregnant. I feel good." Daryl sighed and nodded his head.

"A'right, just you and me. That what you want?"

"Yeah," she said with a grin, biting her lower lip.

"Best get some sleep, then. We'll head out early." He leaned in, kissing her softly, and she sighed heavily and curled into him. His hand brushed over her hip and up under her shirt and over her ribcage. She gasped a little when his hand brushed over her breast, and he pulled his hand back.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Forgot." Her breasts had been quite sensitive the last couple of weeks, but she put her hand around his wrist, keeping his hand right where it was.

"They don't hurt anymore," she offered, seeing the desire in Daryl's eyes. He'd become quite fascinated with the way her breasts had swollen a little and how her tummy protruded just slightly. She found it to be a big turn on that he couldn't get enough of her, even though she knew he worried sometimes that he might be hurting the baby. All it ever took was a look of reassurance from her, and he knew it was alright.

He leaned in again, kissing her gently at first, his hands playing with the hardened peak of her breast, rolling his thumb over the nipple to get a gasp out of her. She gently tugged at his lip with her teeth, and he took this as a sign that she was feeling up to a little more of an aggressive approach tonight.

His tongue probed her mouth, caressing her tongue gently at first, but as the kiss deepened, he threaded his fingers through her hair, tugging gently, and she moaned. Her hands were already tugging on his shirt when he crawled over her, framing her hips with his knees, and he raised his arms and pulled the shirt off in one swift movement.

Carol's gaze flashed from his face down to the top of his sleep pants, and she tugged at the draw string, a wicked gleam in her eye as she worked. Daryl leaned back down, pressing hot kisses over her throat and her neck, and his hands tugged up on her shirt. She arched up long enough for him to slide the shirt off of her arms, and his mouth pressed down against her breast, tugging at her nipple as she cried out softly.

He kissed his way down her breasts and over the soft swell of her tummy, and she moaned when his fingers pulled back on the waist of her pants, and he trailed his tongue over the freshly exposed skin. Her hands were on his back now, and they trembled as they moved over him, nails digging in when his gentle touches became too much.

"Daryl," she murmured, getting him to raise his head to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed with red, and he knew what she wanted. So, he moved off of her and stood next to the bed, helping her out of her socks and her pants, peeling her underwear off as he went alone. She hissed in a sharp breath at the feeling of the cool air on her skin, but he pulled her up to stand in front of him, and he pulled her against him, their bodies pressing together so close that she could feel that furnace-like Dixon heat coming off of him. She moaned when his hand moved down her back and over her ass, giving her a little squeeze. The last couple months had created a pretty bold Daryl Dixon when it came to matters in the bedroom. She loved it. She loved the times when he was a bit shy about things, but she also loved when he took control and guided them along, letting her know what _he _wanted too.

"C'mere," he murmured, leading her over to the chair in the corner. She narrowed her eyes at him but obliged without words. She sat down, and he urged her to lay back, which she did, and he knelt down on the floor between her knees. She gasped a little when she realized where this was going. "Wanna see your face." She blushed brightly and said nothing as he put his hands behind her knees and tugged her forward just a little. She bit her lip and closed her eyes when he leaned forward, pressing his nose against her soft curls, dipping his tongue between her folds to taste her. She squirmed in the chair, and he kept his eyes trained on her face, watching the way she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, the way her shoulders tensed as her hands gripped the armrests.

He wasted no time pushing two fingers inside of her, going right to the hard-to-find bundle of nerves, realizing he'd found the right spot when her lips parted, and her head slammed back against the soft back of the chair. Daryl's tongue slid over her clit, and he felt her legs shaking now. Her hands moved to slide through his hair and grip him here, her nails digging into his neck a little.

He pulled her knee up, draping one leg over his shoulder, and she cried out when he inserted another finger inside of her and her muscles cramped down against his digits. His tongue moved almost expertly around her sensitive flesh, and when he removed his fingers, he replaced them with his tongue, dipping inside of her and getting another cry out of her throat.

"Fuck!" she cried out, bringing her hand to her mouth, biting the back of it to try and quiet herself. He couldn't help but grin as he watched her, and his dick grew hard in his pants. She was panting now, and her breasts bounced on her chest, giving him quite a show, and he loved it.

Just as she was on the verge of release, he stopped, and her eyes flew open.

"Damn it, Daryl," she cried out in frustration, knowing he was playing with her, trying to hold off orgasm to make it all the better for her, but still, she wanted to come, and the shit-eating grin on his face told her he knew exactly what he was doing.

Finally, she took control, pushing on his shoulders to move him back. He moved out of the way, standing up and watching her stand on shaky knees. She moved to the bed but didn't get on it. Instead, she knelt on the floor, hands on the bed, spreading her legs and looking over her shoulder at him. _Jesus Christ, she's perfect_. His dick twitched in his pants, and he crawled up behind her, rolling his pants down his hips, his dick bobbing forward. He pressed his chest against her back, moving one arm around her waist under her breasts and moving one hand up to her neck, pulling her gently back, nipping along the back of her shoulder and up to her neck, trailing his tongue there for good measure. She groaned accordingly and turned her head to meet his lips. He moved his hand down, gripping his and lining up with her entrance. With one thrust, he filled her, and she lurched forward, burying her face against the mattress, muffling her cries there as he put one hand on the mattress for leverage and began to thrust into her, fucking her the way he knew she liked it when she wanted it a little rough.

She pulled back a little, gripping the mattress harder now, moving her hips to meet his thrusts with her own, and she felt his hot mouth on the back of her neck again. He thrust into her over and over, and he moved his hand down to stroke her, circling her clit in a hurried frenzy, and gasped for breath, her fingers white as she gripped the sheets to tight, curling them in her fingers.

Stars burst behind her eyes as she squeezed them shut so tightly, and her muscles clamped down around him in involuntary spasms. His groan when she did this was almost a growl, feral and desperate, and when he felt her warm juices flood over him, he let go, spilling inside of her and collapsing against her back, as they both leaned against the bed, panting and spent. Carol moaned softly when she felt his lips against her shoulder, and she laughed a little, as she often did before the euphoria wore off.

Realizing he was still pressing against her, he moved off of her, and they both collapsed on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed.

"Fuck," he grunted, pulling his pants over his hips and stuffing himself back inside. "That never gets old." Carol snorted a laugh and her shoulders shook as she tried to quiet herself. Daryl watched her, falling more in love with her, if it was even possible.

"Thought you said we should sleep," Carol teased.

"I could sleep now," he pointed out. "You?"

"Yeah. But I might have to sleep here on this floor. Not sure my knees are working at the moment." Daryl snorted, and he stood up, helping Carol to her feet. She was shivering now, so she pulled her clothes back on, and they got back under the covers, curling up together. Within minutes, Carol was fast asleep in his arms, and he followed soon after, looking forward to tomorrow with nervous anticipation.

After breakfast, Carol and Daryl took off in a pickup truck they'd found about a month ago. It was in good shape, the tires were almost new, and it was great on gas. They figured it might come in handy for hauling extra supplies. Daryl had it in mind for hauling a crib when the time came.

They took off down a state road they hadn't tried yet, and within a half hour, they found a little town that seemed pretty quiet. A few walkers lingered near the steps of an old library, and there were a few roaming the streets, but a quick drive through town was hopeful.

They pulled up in front of the drug store, and Carol grabbed her knife out of her boot. Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder, and they went to the door. It was locked, and Daryl muttered an expletive under his breath, kicking at the glass, listening for walkers inside. After a few moments of silence, Daryl looked around, seeing no sign of walkers close by, and he walked out into the street, grabbing a heavy rock.

"Stand back," Daryl instructed, and Carol moved away, turning to avoid any shards of glass spraying into her face. Daryl knocked several times on the door until he made a decent crack, and then he tossed the rock at the ripple of broken glass, listening to it shatter all over the concrete floor inside. Carol was the first to grab her gun from the back of her pants, stepping through the door before Daryl even had a chance to make a move. While he was impressed by her bravery, he felt extremely protective of her. She could take care of herself, but it wasn't just her she was taking care of. Now they had a child to think about—albeit a child who wouldn't be here for several more months—and that made him nervous.

"All clear," Carol called over her shoulder. Daryl stepped in after her.

"Won't be for long. I'll check the back. That'll be our exit in case the walkers come 'round." Carol nodded, and she went off toward the pharmacy while Daryl went to check the exit. She grabbed several bottles of prenatal vitamins, figuring that should get her through the rest of her pregnancy. She grabbed more antibiotics and other various medicines as well as condoms, tampons other things. Glenn had begged her for the condoms before she left, because Maggie had had a scare last month and wouldn't let him touch her again until they had some sort of protection.

When Daryl had the back exit secure, he grabbed a couple of packs of diapers and some baby formula. Judith was getting a bit old for it, but the baby food on the shelves had long since expired, and she wasn't quite big enough to chew venison or squirrel meat yet.

Carol met Daryl at the back, and they made their way out of the building. They went around the side and peered toward the entrance, where a couple of walkers were talking up to the door, feet sliding over broken shards of glass. Daryl held his hand up, and Carol let him take the lead, walking quietly to the car. He tossed his pack and then hers into the back of the truck. They slipped in, and as soon as the car doors shut, a walker came shuffling back out of the drug store, reaching for the truck. Daryl backed out of the parking spot as the walker edged up to the front of the truck.

"Shit," he muttered. "One trip without these fuckers is all I ask for." He spit out the window and slammed the truck into drive. The walker's leg got caught under the bumper, and Daryl took it down as he drove forward. They heard the crunch of his skull under the tires, and Daryl kept going. Carol glanced behind them, seeing a tire trail of blood following after them for a couple blocks like water when you drive through a puddle.

She groaned, putting her hand on her stomach, and Daryl noticed.

"Need me to pull over?"

"No. I'm fine," she offered. "We need to find a grocery store. Michonne requested beef sticks and cheese in a can." She made a face, her stomach grumbling at the thought, either out of hunger or disgust. "And we need to find pickles."

"You got a craving?" he asked, eyeing her. She laughed.

"No. They just sound good. I haven't had pickles in ages. Oh, and peanut butter. Maybe we can find some chocolate syrup, too." By the look on Daryl's face, she could tell he was starting to get a little worried about her eating habits.

"Just in case I _do_ get a craving. I want to have the bases covered." She smiled and relaxed against the seat and enjoyed the view as they drive down the highway. Daryl reached over and took her hand in his, linking their fingers together, and they drove in a comfortable silence.

They stopped along the way at a little gas station, and Daryl managed to find some ridiculously overpriced pickles and peanut butter that weren't expired yet. He also found chocolate syrup and even managed to find a few boxes of saltine crackers. He figured they were probably stale as hell, but he remembered hearing somewhere that pregnant women sometimes ate those things when they weren't feeling too good.

When they got back out on the road to head for home, Carol's stomach growled. Without words, Daryl reached into the glove compartment and pulled out some jerky. Carol made a face but ate it anyway, because she knew that with hunger came nausea, and she really didn't want to throw up today.

They were about a half hour from home and just about to make a turn onto the next road when someone ran across the road. A shrill scream pierced the air, and Daryl slammed on the brakes, sending them both lurching forward only to be stopped by their seatbelts.

"What the hell?" he muttered, putting the truck in park. Another person dashed across the road.

"Is that…?" Carol asked, squinting to try and see, as the sun was in their eyes. "That looked like Bob." Daryl unbuckled himself and got out of the truck. Carol followed, and they watched as another person ran out of the trees. It was Tyreese followed closely by Carl.

"Carl?!" Carol called, and the boy looked over at her, wide-eyes beneath the brim of a very worn sheriff's hat. At that moment, a small herd of walkers came out from the trees, and Carl and Tyreese ran to the other side of the road but stopped.

"Bob! Sasha!" Tyreese called in a deep bass growl. Carol pulled her gun out and took down two walkers consecutively, while Daryl shot one walker right through the eye. Carl reached for a sharp piece of steel that had been sticking out of his belt, and he used it to stick through the bottom of a walker's neck, angling up to hit its brain.

Bob and Sasha stumbled out of the trees breathlessly, eyes wide with surprise when they watched Tyreese, Carl, Carol and Daryl taking down walker after walker. Within minutes, they all stood there staring at one another in the middle of the road, taking in everything that had just happened.

"Where'd you guys come from? Is Dad with you? What about Judy?" Carl was the first to speak, and he couldn't get the questions out fast enough. Carol held an arm out, and he ran to her, at least six inches taller than the last time she'd seen him. He buried his face against her neck as they embraced, and she could hear him sniffle. When he pulled back, she smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder.

"Your Dad and Judith are fine," she promised him. "We looked for you guys. Where…"

"We've been everywhere," Sasha gasped, placing her hand on her chest as her lungs burnt with each breath. "We've been in an old school the past month. We met somebody who said something about a safe zone, and we were just talking about going when a herd came by."

"Safe zone?" Daryl asked, cleaning off one of his arrows with the tail of his shirt. Carol groaned inwardly, knowing she was going to be the one to clean it later. Carol was great with getting out blood stains. Walker blood was the hardest, and she wasn't sure that shirt would ever be the same.

"Yeah," Bob said, swallowing hard and looking from Carol to Daryl. "Met a man on his way back there with his daughter. She was sick, and he said they had a doctor there. Said they have a lot of things there. He told us how to get there, said he was in a hurry and couldn't wait for us to decide." Daryl and Carol glanced at one another, and Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder.

"This safe zone," Daryl said thoughtfully, looking at the faces of their friends, "where'd he say it was?"

_Author's note: Please leave me some feedback. Pretty please? :)_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Carl rode in the front of the truck between Carol and Daryl, while Sasha, Bob and Tyreese rode in the back. Carl chattered away about this supposed safe zone in Virginia, while Carol stared at the window, their reunion playing through in her head, her worries about how Tyreese would react knowing about her killing Karen and David picking at her and making her stomach twist into knots. Considering he'd given her a welcoming hug, she assumed he didn't know anything about what had happened. Daryl eyed her every once in a while, knowing she was probably wondering about that, but he made a silent vow that no matter how Tyreese reacted, he'd knock him out if he had to, because Carol was his first priority.

"He said they had walls and guards and they even have generators so people can cook and take hot showers," Carl chattered. "If it's really there, we could go. Judith would love it there. They said there's plenty of kids."

"It sounds nice," Carol murmured.

"I'll talk to my dad," Carl said with a firm nod. Carol and Daryl glanced at one another, neither having the heart to tell the boy his dad wasn't exactly in charge anymore. Things were going to be a lot different for anybody, but they were still grateful to have most of the group back together.

When they pulled down the long drive that led up to the house, Carol felt anxious. She was nervous about having almost the entire group under one roof again, nervous about Tyreese, nervous about this potential safe zone in Virginia. She chewed her lip nearly the entire way as Carl talked about the place with such hope. It was good to hear him with hope in his heart after all this time, after everything they'd been through.

It was nearing dark when they pulled up to the house, and Daryl was the first out of the truck. Bob handed Daryl both packs that they'd had riding in the back, and everybody piled out of the front and back of the truck.

The screen door squeaked open, and Rick was the first to walk out holding baby Judith on his hip. He peered out through the shadows as dusk fell upon the farmhouse, and the first thing he saw was his old sheriff's hat sitting upon the head of a young man who stood at Daryl's height. It was then that he realized, seeing the stringy brown hair that fell shaggily in his eyes and down to his shoulders that it was his son.

Carl looked up to meet his father's gaze, and they both froze for a moment. Carol reached over and gave Carl's shoulder a gentle squeeze, and he placed his hand on hers for a moment, never taking his eyes off of the sight of his father with his baby sister.

"Dad!" he cried out, his voice deeper than Rick was expecting.

"Carl," Rick murmured as Michonne stepped out on the porch, curious about the commotion. Her lips parted in a gasp when she saw the young man rushing up the path from the truck to the porch. Rick met him half way and pulled him into a strong hug with his free arm. Baby Judith fussed a little at the startle, but she relaxed a little when Rick passed her over to her big brother. She stared at him like a stranger for a moment, but he pulled her close, kissing her soft blonde baby curls.

"Judy," Carl sniffled. "You're alive. You're alive."

"God," Rick choked out, tears in his eyes. "You grew up."

"Had to," Carl sniffled, holding back his own cries as he wiped his own tears away. "Dad, where were you?"

"I think I wandered around for days bleedin' and out of my mind," he confessed. "Don't know how some walker didn't pick me off, the state I was in. Then Carol and Daryl found me." He pulled his son into another hug. "Jesus, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Dad," the boy cried.

Carol felt the tears spring to her eyes as Maggie and Glenn walked out to see what was going on. It was the best sight she'd seen in a long while, all of them together like this, minus a few good people.

"We lost most of our weapons," Sasha murmured, leaning on Bob, her arms around his waist, her head on his shoulder.

"That's alright. We'll get more," Glenn pointed out.

"We've got a lot to talk about," Daryl murmured, nodding at Carl, who knew Daryl meant to talk about this supposed safe-zone.

"Well, dinner's ready," Michonne said softly, nudging Carl's shoulder. "Glenn bagged a deer, so we have plenty of food."

"Glenn?" Daryl asked with surprise. "No shit?"

"Don't act so surprised." Glenn rolled his eyes.

"He didn't mangle it too bad," Michonne teased.

"Come on in," Carol offered. "Well figure out sleeping arrangements later. For now, let's eat."

"Anything that's not a pile of rocks or leaves will suit me fine," Bob said with a cheerful smile, giving Sasha a squeeze. They shared a tender kiss, and Carol felt the tears again. Daryl caught her hand briefly in his and gave it a little squeeze before he headed into the house to drop off their packs.

Tyreese lingered outside with Carol for a moment, and Carol eyed him, her stomach dropping at the thought of what he might do when he found out she was the one he'd been directing all of his hate toward in the last few days she was at the prison.

"Tyreese?" she asked quietly. Tyreese stared up at the house, his head cocked a little in consideration.

"Best sight I've seen in a long time," he said softly. "Already feels like home." Carol smiled a little and turned to head into the house, leaving him to his thoughts.

After dinner was finished, everybody sat around the table swapping stories of their last few months. Carol and Daryl made no point to hide anything, nor did they make a display of their relationship. They sat next to each other, like they always had. They kidded with each other, like they always had, and they talked quietly together, like they often did when things got noisy and they weren't exactly a part of the conversation.

"Look what I found," Glenn offered, coming out of the kitchen with a bottle of champagne in his hand.

"Where'd you find that?" Carol asked.

"Top shelf in the basement."

"How'd you reach?" Daryl joked, getting a glare and a chuckle from Glenn.

"Funny, Daryl."

"Remember what happened last time you had wine?" Daryl snorted. Glenn's face fell, and he handed it to Maggie.

"On second thought, I think I'll have water." Everybody laughed, and as Maggie poured glasses for everyone except for Carl and Bob, who abstained for obvious reasons, Daryl told the story of how Glenn had had the world's worst hangover at the CDC after a night of drinking.

"Dad was hungover too," Carl laughed. Maggie reached Carol and went to pour her a glass, but Carol instinctively put her hand over the glass.

"None for me, thanks." Michonne's head snapped up, and Carol met her gaze and could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

"Come on," Maggie encouraged. "We have a lot to celebrate." Carol briefly caught Daryl's gaze, and he swallowed hard, trying to think of some way to help her excuse herself from drinking.

"My stomach's kind of funny today," Carol pointed out, shaking her head. "I'll have a little supper. Somebody else can have my share." Carol looked at Michonne, an almost pleading look in her eyes, and that's when Michonne's eyes widened with understanding.

"I'll take Carol's," Michonne offered. "What? I like wine." Michonne felt her cheeks grow a little hot at all the attention now directed at her, but she caught Carol's gaze, and Carol mouthed a silent 'thank you' in her direction. She gave her a little nod as Maggie filled her glass back up.

Carol and Daryl were cleaning up in the kitchen while everybody else worked out sleeping arrangements. Michonne brought the last of the dirty dishes in and put them down in the sink. She leaned against the counter and looked at Carol and Daryl. They both turned to look at her..

"Something you two want to tell me?" she asked, barely suppressing the amused grin that threatened to expand on her face. They said nothing. She rolled her eyes.

"Look, I saw the bottle of prenatal vitamins fall out of your bag, Carol." Carol's eyes widened, and Michonne laughed. "I moved it to make room for Bob's things, and it fell out. Don't worry. Nobody else saw it. Your secret's safe." Carol sighed heavily.

"Thank you for covering for me," Carol said quietly. "With the wine? I'm just not ready to tell people yet."

"How far along?"

"I'm not sure," Carol said quietly. "Fourteen, fifteen weeks?" Carol put her hand on her tummy, smoothing the shirt back to reveal she did have a bit of a tummy sticking out. Michonne eyed her.

"This a good thing or…" She knew Carol had to be thinking about Judith's mother and how she died.

"I think so," Carol said with a little smile. "I mean, it happened, and it's happening."

"We're gonna be fine," Daryl pointed out. "Carol's gonna be fine. We'll make it work, right?" He kissed the side of her head, and he excused himself to go out to the rest of the group and let the girls talk.

"Are you ok?" Michonne asked quietly, putting her hand on Carol's shoulder. Carol gave her a little smile and nodded.

"I feel good. I'm a little tired, but I feel pretty good. Daryl's pretty good at giving foot rubs."

"That's not exactly what I meant," Michonne said quietly. Carol sighed and her shoulders fell a little.

"Of course I'm worried about it. Any woman would be." She took a deep breath. "But I want this. I know it sounds incredibly selfish and…"

"No it doesn't," Michonne murmured. "We both know what it's like. We've both been there. We can't live in fear, or else we really are doomed." Michonne had a pretty good point. If people lived in fear of what could happen during childbirth, there would be no more new life, and life would truly be over. They had to try. They had to fight to take back pieces of what once was, and what better way than by welcoming a new life into the world?

"Thank you," Carol said softly, feeling the tears stinging her eyes again. "I know Daryl's worried about me, but he's happy about the baby. He's happy, Michonne. And so am I." Michonne smiled and gave her friend's shoulder a squeeze.

"I promise your secret's safe with me. I understand." Michonne paused for a moment, and Carol wondered what she was thinking. "When I found out I was pregnant, I didn't tell anybody for almost five months. My boyfriend knew, of course, but that was about it. I was scared to death." Carol smiled sadly at Michonne's story. "By the time I told anybody, I already knew I was having a boy, and I already had his name picked out. I was just afraid that actually saying the words to someone else would be...that it would make it all go away, you know?"

"Yeah," Carol said softly. "I know."

"When he was born, he didn't cry, and the doctors took him away. I didn't even get to hold him for two hours. Two hours." She shook her head. "I was scared, and when the nurse finally brought him to me, he was ok. He was healthy, and he was hungry, and I remember them handing me the bottle, and I just stared at him when he ate. I couldn't believe I could love somebody as much as I loved Andre." A tear trailed down Michonne's cheek. "I used to hold him too much. Mike—that was Andre's daddy—used to tell me I held him too much, that I was spoiling him. But I'd rock him to sleep, and I'd just feel his warm little body against me, and I'd feel him breathe, and it was perfect." She sighed. "He had this way of looking at me, like he knew what I was thinking. He was such a sweet kid."

"I'm sorry he's not here."

"I'm sorry Sophia's not here," Michonne said softly. Carol wiped away her own tears and nodded. Michonne took a deep breath, and the two women cleaned up the rest of the dishes in physical silence as a storm of emotions and memories ran through each of them.

"I still don't figure how ya'll think we can trust these people," Daryl murmured, chewing on a toothpick as they all sat around the living room after dinner. "These people you met in the woods…they could be anybody. Hell, they could be leftovers from Woodbury."

"We don't have a whole lot of options, do we?" Bob asked.

"Our track record with strangers hasn't exactly been perfect," Rick pointed out, bouncing Judith on his knee.

"Dad, not everybody's bad," Carol urged.

"Carl's right," Glenn said quietly. "If we stop trusting everybody, we're never going to get anywhere. If we can't let anyone in or join somebody else, we're just going to be wandering around together until we all die off."

Carol chewed her lip for a moment before speaking up.

"We need numbers. We have each other, but that's all we've got. We need shelter. This house worked fine when there was just a few of us, but we have to find something else. We have to have walls, we have to have guards, we need more weapons and supplies. We also need a doctor." She caught Daryl's gaze and then looked at Bob.

"I know you were a medic and you have medical training, but it's not going to be enough for everything that comes along. And what if something happens to you?" She glanced around and everyone, noticing that all eyes were on her. And it wasn't in a way she was used to. They were all focused on her and truly listening. She was used to feeling as if she was being looked at as a victim what with everything that had happened with Ed and Sophia. But now they were looking at her as if she were in charge, as if her ideas counted just as much as Rick's or Daryl's.

She'd gotten a little used to having more of a leadership role at the prison when she'd sat on the council after all the survivors came flooding to the prison. But, then that had all changed. The sickness had broken out, and everything had gone downhill. Now, she wasn't really certain of her place, but she felt more confident now than she ever had in this group.

She looked at Daryl, and he gave her a nod, urging her on.

"Trust is a hard thing to give to someone, and it's even harder to earn sometimes. But what if we hadn't trusted Michonne? Or what if Hershel hadn't trusted us? Where would we be now?" She looked at Rick. "We don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. We don't. One minute I was a mother looking out for her daughter, and the next, she was running from a walker, and I never saw her again." She felt her shoulders shaking, but she stood strong. "If we go, we might find it was all a lie. But we might find something else. Maybe it is safe. Maybe it's the only safe place there is. There's only one way we can find out."

She eyed Daryl. She knew he wasn't keen on this whole 'new people' thing, but he'd listened to her, and when she looked at him, he gave her a nod, the nod that told her that he heard her and he understood where she was coming from.

Carol took her seat next to Daryl, and everybody sort of stared at one a few moments. Finally, Daryl stood and peered around at everybody before glancing back down at Carol.

"She's got a point. Hell, when me and Merle was on our own, we got taken in by Glenn's group. They didn't know who the hell we were, and I don't know why they didn't toss us out on our asses. My brother didn't get along with most folks. If Dale and them hadn't taken us in, who knows what woulda happened." Carol gave him a soft smile, and he cleared his throat. "Alright, people. Let's vote."

It had taken a week to gather enough cars and supplies to stock up for a long road trip. Carol was having a particularly difficult time saying goodbye to the place she'd called home for the last few months. She and Daryl had made some wonderful memories together behind those walls, and at least she had the memories to sustain her.

On the day of their departure, they assigned groups to cars. Rick, Michonne, Carl and baby Judith would take Carol's old car, since it had more room for the baby's seat. Glenn and Maggie had a small sports car to themselves, while Bob, Sasha and Tyreese took another. Carol and Daryl decided on the pickup truck. The guys had found a truck cap that fit perfectly over the back of the truck, providing protection from the elements for all the supplies they were hauling.

When the cars were all gassed up, and the last of the supplies had been moved out of the house, Daryl couldn't find Carol anywhere. He was searching through the house when he peered out the kitchen window to see her standing in the back yard, staring up at something. He walked out, and she turned at the sound of the back screen door squeaking and slamming shut.

"Hey," he said quietly, looking around. "You ok?"

"Yeah. I was just saying goodbye," she said softly. "Goodbye to a comfortable bed. Goodbye to a warm house. Goodbye to the tree house. We made some good memories in there." Daryl chuckled at pulled his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"We can make new memories. We're gettin' pretty good at startin' over, huh?" He moved his hand down to caress her belly, and she sighed softly.

"You're sure you're ok with this? I know you weren't too excited about the idea at first," she said quietly.

"If you're goin', I'm goin'. And you were right. We can't keep on like this, or we're just gonna hide 'til we die. We gotta keep goin'. We gotta find a place where we can raise our baby, where we're safe. We need walls." She nodded in agreement, but she still sighed and slumped against him.

"I'm scared, Daryl," she said quietly.

"Me too," he admitted. "But we've gotten through everything else, so far. We'll get through this, too."

"When did you become so sure of that?" she teased, turning in his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned in and kissed her softly.

"Dunno. Guess you're just a good influence on me." That made her grin, and he sighed, resting his forehead against hers.

"We should go," she murmured, feeling her stomach twisting and her nerves starting to take over. He leaned in once again and kissed her, softly brushing his thumb against her cheek.

"Hey guys, Dad says we better—" Carl stopped in his tracks at the sight of Carol and Daryl kissing. Carol and Daryl quickly pulled apart, and Carol covered her mouth with her hand, suppressing a little laugh. Daryl shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Carl a 'you little shit' look. "Uh…" Carl rubbed the back of his neck nervously, something Carol had seen Rick do a couple of different times in the last month or so when he'd caught them together. "I think the group's ready."

"Yeah, we're comin'," Daryl grumbled. Carl removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair nervously before replacing it on top of his head and rushing off toward the car. Daryl turned back to Carol and held his hand out to her. They linked fingers and walked hand in hand toward the front of the house, ready for that next step, ready to move on.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

17 weeks. Carol thumbed through the baby book she'd hidden in the glove compartment of the pickup truck, and she patted her growing belly as she read. Daryl eyed her as they drove, wondering how the hell she wasn't getting sick reading that book while the truck was moving.

"Listen to this," Carol murmured, taking a sip of water. "The baby's about the size of the palm of your hand, and it can hear now." Carol smiled as she put the book down. Daryl grinned at her.

"Hope it don't hear _everything_," he said with a chuckle. She nudged his arm.

"Stop!" she laughed. Daryl reached over and put his hand over her belly, stroking her softly.

"You hear me, kid? You just cover them ears when it's time for your mama and papa to go to bed." Carol's eyes welled with tears, and she laughed, wiping at her eyes. "You ok?"

"I love you so much," she murmured, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for being here for me."

"I'll always be here," he promised. "Long as I got breath in my lungs, I'll be here." Carol put her hand over his and took a deep breath.

"Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

"I know how you feel about me talking to Tyreese about Karen and David," she started, seeing him visibly tense up right next to her. They'd discussed it many times over the last week, and he had expressed his fears for her and for their child if she told him now. "I see how he gets. He gets lost sometimes, and I feel like I'm lying to him. He needs to know. He needs to hear it from me. Maybe they all do." Daryl took her hand in his, keeping the other hand firm around the steering wheel.

"You don't owe nobody nothin'. You did what you had to do."

"I owe Tyreese," Carol pointed out, squeezing his hand. "I need to tell him, Daryl." Daryl sighed heavily, and he worried his lip between his teeth.

"I wanna be there."

"What?"

"When you tell him, I'm there."

"Daryl…you don't actually think Tyreese would…"

"Times ain't what they used to be. Tyreese is my friend, but you come first no matter what. I ain't gonna let nobody hurt you."

"I can take care of myself," she assured him.

"It ain't just you," he reminded her, putting his hand back on her stomach. "We got a lot to lose." Carol sighed heavily.

"I have to do this myself. I have to tell him." Daryl grumbled something under his breath, and Carol eyed him. "You can get mad. Doesn't change anything. I still want to tell him. He needs to know."

"Won't change nothin'. Karen'll still be dead. He'll still be grievin'. Only thing different will be that now he'll have somebody to hate for it. And he ain't hurtin' you. He ain't touchin' you. I'd kill him if he tried."

"Daryl…"

"No." His voice was low and sure. "He's gonna have to accept what's what, or he's gone."

"Daryl, we can't just…" She watched him grip the steering wheel tightly with both hands. She hadn't seen him this worked up over something in quite a long time. While it touched her that he was so protective of her, it worried her at the same time. Carol settled back against the car seat and closed her eyes. "I'll tell him tonight. I just want to put it behind us. I just need to move on."

About an hour later, they spotted an old fire station, and Daryl parked the truck around the back in a fenced in area, free from walkers. The other cars followed and parked next to him. Daryl closed the gate and looked around the area. There wasn't a walker in sight outside of the fence, though that didn't mean anything. The inside could be crawling with walkers. But the inside was also likely to have plenty of beds and maybe even some food.

Everybody drew their weapons, and Daryl led the way with Carol and Michonne on his heels. When they got inside, it was too dark to see anything. Carol used her flashlight, and when they were sure they were safe, everybody started piling in, flashlights on.

They climbed a set of steel steps up to the loft where all the bunks were. There were rows and rows of beds, and without words, everybody started dumping their packs on the bunk of their choosing and setting up candles.

Carol and Daryl chose cots closest to the stairs, and they unpacked in silence. He tucked a package of jerky into her hands, his eyes meeting hers, silently indicating that he wanted her to eat something to keep her strength. She gave him a thankful smile and took a few bites before placing the jerky in her pack.

"Everybody got plenty of food?" Glenn asked, passing back and forth in front of each cot, checking up on everybody. When he was satisfied that everybody had something to eat, he settled down on Maggie's cot to talk to her. Carol brushed her hand over Daryl's and their eyes met.

"You sure you don't want me to come?" he asked quietly.

"It'll be alright, Daryl. Just…let me do this." He nodded, and he leaned in, giving her a soft peck on the lips. A wolf whistle and a couple of inappropriate whoops came from nearby, and Carol and Daryl turned to see Bob and Carl grinning like idiots.

"Shut up and eat," Daryl muttered, glaring at the two, which only made them laugh louder. Carol sighed and got up, moving toward Tyreese's cot. He looked up at her and gave her a tired smile.

"Ty, could you help me get something from outside?" she asked. He glanced at Daryl, who was watching the two of them.

"Uh, sure, Carol. What do you need?"

"Just come with me." She started for the stairs, and Tyreese got up, following behind her, passing a confused glance to Daryl, who watched them go down the stairs.

Once they were downstairs, Tyreese started for the door, and Carol followed him out.

"You forget something?" he asked. He turned to face her, and she suddenly looked as if all the color had drained from her face.

"I needed to talk to you away from the others," she said quietly.

"What's this about?" he asked, his eyes filled with worry. "Did something happen? You bit?"

"No, no, it's not that. Everybody's fine, and I just…I needed to talk to you about…about what happened at the prison."

"Why you weren't there when The Governor came back?" he wondered. She nodded. "Yeah, I was wondering that, too. I heard Daryl made a scene and went out after you."

"Rick never approached you about anything?"

"I think he tried," Tyreese admitted. "But my sister needed me, and I was trying to work out everything that happened." Carol swallowed hard as Tyreese talked.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I don't know what you might have heard or what you think happened. But I need you to listen to me." Tyreese nodded and leaned against the side of the pickup truck. "Rick asked me not to come back with him when we went on our last run."

"Why would he do that?

"He thought I was a danger to the group, to his family, to everybody else." She saw Tyreese's jaw tense as his eyes searched his. "Tyreese, Rick knew that it was me. I'm the one that killed Karen and David." She recoiled a bit when she saw Tyreese's fists tighten at his sides, and flashes of Ed filled her head, and she could almost feel the ghost of the impact of his fists on her body, the way he'd just let loose in a fit of rage when she pissed him off. Tyreese saw her flinch and step backward, but she didn't turn. She didn't walk away.

"You? _You_ killed them? You killed Karen?" He saw her head nod slowly, her eyes filling with tears.

"They were dying, Tyreese," she choked out. "They were going to choke to death in their own blood, and then they were going to get up and start killing people." He turned and leaned against the truck, his arms bracing on the edge of the truck bed. "I'm not making excuses. I killed them. It was me. But you have to understand that it was the only thing I knew to do. We've put down our own before when they were suffering. You didn't know Dale. He was ripped apart by a walker, and he lay there dying, screaming in pain, and Daryl put a bullet between his eyes, because it was the _right_ thing to do."

"You—"

"I went to see Karen," Carol explained. "She was in and out of it, and she looked up at me as I was helping her drink a sip of water. She was terrified. She had no color. The blood was already coming out of her nose and her tears were pink." Carol put her hand to her throat at the memory of it. "She was dying, Tyreese. And David was worse than she was." She swallowed hard, remembering the rest of it vividly. "She passed out again, and she was already starting to choke. I took my knife, and I ended it for her. And then I did the same for David." The tears fell freely now, and she tried to wipe them away, to no avail. They just kept coming.

"It was quick?" he asked quietly, turning back toward her.

"Very quick," Carol murmured. "Tyreese, I'm sorry. I know how you felt about her. I'm sorry she's gone, but I had to do something. I couldn't risk the rest of the group getting sick. I know…I know that the sickness was too far spread at that point, but I thought, in that moment, that it was the only thing I could do. I thought, in that moment, that I could end their suffering and potentially save everybody else. I was wrong." She leaned her back against the truck, folding her arms protectively over her stomach.

"Rick was right to send you away," Tyreese finally spoke through gritted teeth. Carol flinched, but she held her own. She could take it. "You _murdered_ them. You can explain it however you want, but you killed 'em. You killed Karen." His hands were shaking now. "You're here, and I'm not gonna tell you to leave or put you out, 'cause I know you think you done what was right, but you were wrong." His eyes flashed with anger. "You were _wrong_." He leaned toward her. "You can't play God that way. You _can't._ She could've got better. She could still be here." Carol knew he was wrong, but he was grieving, and he had to work it through himself. Nothing she said could comfort that right now, so she figured she could take it. She could stand there and take it, because at least she'd told him the truth.

Tyreese turned and walked away from her, not noticing the figure standing in the shadows by the door until he reached for the handle. Daryl stood there, his eyes fixed on Tyreese. Tyreese glanced at him and then back at Carol before staring at Daryl again.

"She can't take it back," Daryl murmured.

"No, she can't."

"And nothin' you coulda

done could have stopped Karen from dyin' anyway. You saw what happened. You saw what almost happened to your sister. Karen was too far gone. She wouldn't have made it long enough for us to get her the medicine."

"Don't talk to me about Karen, Daryl," Tyreese said, his head shaking angrily. "Just. Don't." Tyreese tore open the door and headed inside. Daryl made his way back to Carol by the truck. Her shoulders were shaking, but she seemed ok.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing his hand over her arm. "You ok?"

"That went better than I thought," she breathed. "He hates me, but that's his right." Daryl eyed her, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. "It's alright. I can take it." He kissed her softly before walking back with her toward the firehouse.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The truck bumped along a rather rough road as they turned onto another debris-filled interstate. The group was somewhere in the middle of South Carolina, and they knew they probably still had at least another week and a half of travel ahead of them. It had taken three weeks to get this far, with all of the stopping for supplies, pulling gas from other cars, sleeping and detouring.

Everyone was exhausted, Carol especially, and she couldn't get comfortable. As she sat there in the cab of the pickup truck, she placed her hands protectively over her stomach. She was somewhere around eighteen weeks now, and that stomach wasn't going to be able to be hidden for much longer.

He could tell she was uncomfortable, but she was also worried. When the road cleared a little and the drive was smoother, Carol relaxed a little, but not completely.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, glancing in the rear view mirror to see the rest of the vehicles trailing behind him.

"Just can't get comfortable. I miss our bed." She gave him a sheepish smile, but he could still see the worry in her eyes.

"That ain't it. Somethin's botherin' you."

"It's that obvious?" Daryl gave her a look, and she sighed. "I haven't felt the baby."

"Ain't it too early for that?" he wondered.

"No, not at all. I felt Sophia move a lot earlier in my pregnancy with her." She saw the worry in Daryl's eyes now, so she took his hand and put it over her belly. "I'm sure it's fine."

"Yeah," Daryl murmured. "You feel ok?"

"I feel fine. Just uncomfortable, like I said." She gently rubbed her stomach and closed her eyes, relaxing against the car seat. "Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

"I think it's time to tell the rest of the group." Daryl glanced at her. "I'm pretty sure Maggie's suspecting something. Plus, I caught Glenn staring at my boobs."

"I'll kill him," Daryl muttered, getting a little laugh out of Carol.

"Well, they _are_ getting bigger," she pointed out. "Another week, and I won't be able to hide this anymore." She lifted her shirt, and Daryl smiled at the swell of Carol's belly. It still amazed him to see her pregnant with his baby. If anybody had that glow that people said pregnant women had, it was Carol.

"Well, you wanna tell 'em tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm a little nervous, but I don't want to hide it anymore. The baby'll be here in about four months, and I guess we better start getting everybody ready for the change." Daryl gave her a little nod in agreement and gave her belly another little rub. She sighed softly and closed her eyes again, trying to get a little rest and not focus on how uncomfortable this journey was becoming.

The group had found a small apartment building to take refuge in for the night. Rick, Michonne, Carl, Bob and Tyreese had taken the second level to clear, while the rest cleared the lower level. There were only half a dozen walkers in the place, and most of the apartments were pretty well habitable, save for three on the top level with rotting corpses with gunshot wounds to the head that had very likely been there since the start of it all.

There were enough apartments, still, for everybody to take their own, but of course, the couples coupled up. Bob and Sasha took a room near Glenn and Maggie. Tyreese took a room of his own. Interestingly enough, Rick and Michonne, to everybody's surprise, took a room together. Carl took baby Judith, while Carol and Daryl chose the first apartment next to the exit.

Despite separate sleeping quarters, the group met out in the lobby to eat that evening. A small trash can with leaves and twigs served as their fireplace, and warmed up spam and Vienna sausages to eat.

Carol and Daryl kept stealing gazes at each other, wondering when was the perfect time. Carl was going on and on about how Judith was walking so well now, and Michonne had told him to keep an eye on her, because it wouldn't be long and she'd be running everywhere. Carl had suggested getting one of those baby leashes.

Carol caught Daryl's gaze, and he gave her a little nod before squeezing her hand. Well, if there was any time to go for it, it was now.

"Speaking of babies," Carol said quickly when the conversation reached a lull. "We have something to tell you all." Michonne was already grinning before she got the full sentence out. Everybody turned their attention to Carol and Daryl, and Carol could see the flush rising up in Daryl's cheeks. He still wasn't completely comfortable with being the center of attention.

There was a mix of emotions on the faces of the survivors before Carol even spilled the news, but she finally gathered the courage and went for it.

"I'm pregnant."

"Oh my God…that's…awesome, right. I mean, you guys are happy right? It's…" He couldn't help but glance at Carl, who looked more than a little concerned, considering what he'd witnessed when Judith was born.

"We think it's a good thing," Carol offered. "I mean, we know there are risks, but it's happening, and we're going to make the best of it." Daryl gave her hand a squeeze.

"That's great," Maggie said with a smile. "Congratulations, guys." At that point, Tyreese silently excused himself and retreated to his room.

"Thanks," Carol said with a smile as tears glittered in her eyes.

"When's the baby supposed to be here?" Glenn asked, clearly looking at Carol's stomach, trying to find any hint of pregnancy under her large shirt.

"'Bout four more months," Daryl pointed out. "We think." Glenn gave him a look, and then it came out.

"Wait, Daryl's the dad, right?" The grin on Glenn's face showed he was clearly joking.

"Fuck off," Daryl mumbled with a lopsided grin, shoving Glenn's shoulder, getting a laugh out of Bob and Rick.

"Hey, it's not like you guys have been waving your 'couple' flag, you know?" Glenn teased. "But seriously, I'm happy for you guys."

"We didn't know how to tell you guys about the baby," Carol pointed out. "We know the risks. We know what can happen. But we live in fear every day. We're in danger every day. So it's kind of pointless right now to worry about something that might or might not happen a few months from now."

"Well, I think it's great," Bob offered, holding out his fist for Daryl to bump. Daryl gave him a look before awkwardly holding his knuckles out. Carl covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head at the awkwardness.

"Now Judy will have a playmate, huh?" Rick asked, bouncing the baby on his knee. Judith giggled, and everybody laughed. For the first time in a while, there seemed to be a sense of hope, or at the very least, a lift in spirits.

Carol sighed as she sank back against the bed. It wasn't as comfortable as the one back at the house, but it was better than a hard floor or sleeping in the dirt. She kicked off her boots and crossed her ankles, leaning back and staring at the old dusty TV that sat on the chest of drawers. It was kind of amazing how useless all of that technology was now. For all the money people had poured into cell phones and televisions and expensive game systems, all it was now was useless trash strewn about empty houses with nobody to enjoy them or get their money out of it.

She rubbed her belly tenderly, thinking about how she was bringing a child into a world where money had no value, where there were no fads or fashion trends, no athletes, movie stars or musicans to hang up posters of and no Internet where the world was once at your fingertips. It was amazing, actually, how fast the world had run down, how fast it had gone from a material world to a world where a person was lucky to go to bed with a full stomach and a sense of security.

Daryl walked into the room carrying Carol's baby book from the truck. She smiled when he handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I guess I don't have to hide this anymore, huh?" Daryl sank down onto the bed next to her and leaned against the pillow, stretching his arm around her and pulling her close. She snuggled up against him, her belly gently nestled against his side. He placed his hand there, and she kissed him softly.

"So what's it say?" he asked, when he pulled back out of the kiss.

"Hmm?

"About this week?"

"Oh," Carol murmured. She passed him the book. "Read it to me. I'm tired." He eyed her, and she made a face at him that he couldn't resist. With a grunt, he opened the book and leafed through the pages. "Try week 18," she reminded him. "That seems right."

"I got it," he said with a nod. He read quietly to himself for a few moments, and Carol stared up at him in awe, the flicker of candle light playing over his features like something out of a dream.

"Well? What's it say?"

"Says our baby's a kickboxer."

"What?" she asked with a laugh.

"Says it's kicking and rolling and punching and shit," he said proudly. He saw the slightest flicker of concern in her eyes, "and it also says you might not feel that yet." He saw a little relief flood over her face, and he leaned in to kiss her softly. "Don't worry, mama. Our kid's just fine." Her heart swelled when he called her mama, and she felt the tears coming. He saw her lip tremble, and he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. "Love you."

"I love you too," she whimpered as he tugged her even closer in his arms.

_Author's Note: This will be the last update for a few days. With the holidays and work, I'm going to be extremely busy, but look for and update come Sunday afternoon at the latest. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. :)_


	24. Chapter 24

_Author's Note: Please read and review! Feedback always helps! Thanks guys!_

Warning: Character death.

Chapter 24

"Daryl!" Carol called out in a strained whisper, shaking his shoulder sometime in the middle of the night. Daryl opened one bleary eye and peered at her through the dim candlelight.

"Whaswrong?" he muttered, still not completely awake.

"Give me your hand." She had a huge smile plastered on her face, so he figured it couldn't be anything bad. He sat up a little, and she took his hand, placing it on her stomach. He furrowed his brows, not sure what the heck she was talking about.

"You ok?"

"Just wait," she murmured, biting her lip excitedly. He watched her face, a sleepy smile playing over his lips at the sight of her so happy, and when her eyes went wide and she looked at him, he was still a little confused. "Did you feel that?"

"I…no. Don't feel nothin'," he murmured, clearly disappointed.

"Wait. Again. There? You feel that?" He held still, trying with all of his might to feel what it was she was feeling, but he couldn't. "The baby's kicking."

"Can't feel it," he said quietly, moving his hand over her stomach.

"Maybe it's just me," she said softly. "I remember nobody could feel Sophia kicking when she first started. Just me."

"What's it feel like?" he wondered, yawning and turning onto his stomach and scooting down the bed to place his ear against her belly. She grinned.

"I don't know. Like fluttering. Or bubbles. Something funny like that. It's amazing, Daryl." He lay with his head on her belly for the longest time, and she stroked her fingers through his hair.

"You take it easy on your mama," he murmured before pressing a kiss to her stomach. He looked up at her, cheeks a little pink, and she grinned down at him.

"You're gonna be a great dad, Daryl," she whispered, which brought a cloud of doubt over his features. "Don't ever think for a second that you won't be." Daryl moved back up the bed and pressed his lips against hers. When he pulled back, she brushed her hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. "I love you so much."

"Love you," he murmured, dipping back down to kiss her again.

"Walkers!" Sometime in the dead of night, long after the candles had burned down to little wax puddles, someone screamed out, and Daryl and Carol both shot up in bed on full alert. They dressed quickly, grabbing their packs, as pandemonium and gunshots rang out in the hall.

"Fuck," Daryl grunted, grabbing his flashlight from his pack and shining it around so they could see to gather their things. Carol grabbed her gun, checked to make sure she had plenty of ammo and was the first to the door. "Wait."

"I've got it," Carol assured him, opening up the door to come face to face with a walker. Without flinching, she stuck the barrel of the gun in its mouth and pulled the trigger, sending a splatter of blood off onto the wall as the body thudded to the floor. Rick rushed up.

"You alright?" he asked. "Daryl?

"We're both fine," Carol assured him..

"One of the rooms had a crack in the window. They busted through."

"Oh God," Carol murmured. "Is anybody hurt?"

"Not sure yet. We're getting out of here. Just follow me." Carol and Daryl rushed down the hall with Rick, and Daryl took out a walker when it got a little too close to Carol for his liking. He shot an arrow straight through its eye, and it went down, tripping another walker as it fell. Carol jammed her knife into the other walker's head, and they both lay still on the floor. Carol wiped off her blade while Daryl retrieved his arrow, and they continued on toward the lobby.

Just as they were turning the corner, the corner of Carol's pack got caught on a door handle. She hesitated, and in that half a second, the door pulled open, and two walkers came stumbling out. Carol called out, and Daryl stalled in his tracks, turning quickly with his bow poised to see one walker fall on Carol, pinning her to the ground.

"Carol!" he called out. Rick turned and followed on Daryl's heels to help out. Carol was pushing on the walker's shoulders, desperately trying to keep its gnashing jaws away from her neck. She turned her head as the other walker fell still next to her, and Rick pulled a knife from its forehead. Daryl grabbed the walker that had fallen on Carol by the hair and stuck a knife through the back of its head. He tossed the body to the ground and rushed to Carol's side. "Shit. You ok?"

"I'm fine." He helped her stand, and she brushed herself off.

"Are you bit?" Rick asked, holding the flashlight on her. She squinted into the light, shaking her head.

"No. I'm fine. Just a little banged up." Daryl's hand immediately went to Carol's stomach. She gave him an encouraging look. "It's ok. I'm fine. We're fine." She gave his hand a squeeze, and he pulled her into a hug, stroking her back.

"C'mon, let's _go_!" Glenn called from the lobby. "Where the hell is everybody?!" Just at that moment, another shrill scream pierced the air, followed by an anguished cry from another person.

"Sasha! No!" Tyreese came stumbling out of one of the rooms with his little sister in his arms, and she was bleeding profusely from the neck. Carol was the first to reach them, and she saw Tyreese visibly tense in her presence, but Sasha's gasping cries drew him back to the present.

"She bit?" Carol asked, as Tyreese lowered her to the floor. He swallowed hard and nodded, unflinching, numb. "Damn it. Alright, put pressure there." She knew there was nothing they could do, but Sasha's eyes were filled with fear, the least she could do was provide the young woman some comfort in her final moments. Carol's hands moved to Sasha's wounds, placing direct pressure there, fresh blood spurting out from between Carol's fingers. Carol bit her lip to contain the urge to heave, and she whispered soothing words to the dying woman.

"Sasha," he murmured, stroking her hair and rocking her in his arms, as Bob stumbled from the room, shock on his face, blood on his shirt, hands trembling in fear. He fell to his knees next to Tyreese and took Sasha's hand in his.

"Please," Sasha begged, her fingers reaching out for Carol's gun. "Please." The pain etched in her face said it all, and Carol's teary eyes searched Tyreese's face. He wouldn't look at her. He just looked at Sasha. "Please." Sasha started convulsing, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Ty," Bob sobbed. "Let her go, man. Let her go."

"No. No. Sasha…"

"Tyreese," Carol tried, her hand reaching out to his shoulder. He flinched and recoiled, moving back and holding onto Sasha as she shook. "She's dying, Tyreese. She's in pain. She's suffering."

"No," he sobbed, stroking his sister's forehead.

"She's going to die," Carol murmured evenly, tears stinging her eyes. "We need to end this for her." Carol offered her gun to him, as Daryl took a step forward protectively. She gave him a look that told him to wait.

"No!" Tyreese yelled, laying Sasha down gently on the floor, cradling her head like a child's as he did so. "She's my sister. I won't kill my sister!"

"She's already dead, man," Daryl offered, trying not to sound too cold, but not knowing any other way to get it through Tyreese's head. She was gone already, and the least they could do was make it quick for her.

"Do it," Bob sobbed, clutching Sasha's paling hand. "Please. Just do it." Carol's gun shook in her hand, and she eyed Tyreese one last time, as he sobbed into his hands, completely collapsing into himself. She took a deep breath, put her finger on the trigger and pulled, sending a bullet deep into Sasha's skull, suddenly erasing the pain and the fear. She was still, and it was over, and all that could be heard were Tyreese's choked sobs and Bob's whispers into his dead girlfriend's ear.

"C'mon, let's go," Daryl urged, tugging on Carol's hand. "We gotta go, now."

"C'mon, Ty," Bob urged. "It's over. It's over." Tyreese stood numbly and walked with Bob out of the building. Daryl pulled his arm around Carol's waist.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured. "We can't have anymore nights like this. We can't lose nobody else." They rushed out to the cars, and after a quick headcount and check for injuries, they piled into the cars and took off down the highway.

"It's always going to be like this," Carol murmured, leaning her head back against the headrest as Daryl sped down the road. "I'm starting to think even if we find this safe zone, we shouldn't count on it being safe for too long. Look at the prison. It was the perfect place to keep walkers out, and now it's overrun." Daryl reached over, gently squeezing her shoulder, and Carol winced.

"I hurt you?"

"No. When that walker took me down, my shoulder hit the ground hard."

"You sure you're ok? Maybe have Bob take a look at ya?"

"I'm fine, Daryl. Just a little sore. I'm not bit or cut or anything. It just caught me off guard is all." She sighed heavily and pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. It was the general directions toward the safe zone that Carl had written down for them from memory. Carol couldn't help but think that even if they _did _find the safe zone, what then? What if the people at the safe zone were like The Governor? What if they were worse? She suddenly felt a rush of panic for the safety of their little group, of her unborn child. She tried to remember her own words to the group about trusting others and not being alone, but she still couldn't help but worry. After this latest attack by walkers and her near miss with a biter's jaw, she was feeling very cautious now.

But when she looked at Daryl, she saw his eyes focused on that road, and she knew all he wanted was to get them some place with walls. She supposed that, if anything, they would at least have walls, regardless of who else might be sharing them.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"God damn it," Daryl spat, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. Carol was too stunned to cry. She felt sick to her stomach, and she trembled in her seat. "This ain't happenin'." They were parked in front of a large gate. The people Carl, Sasha, Bob and Tyreese had run into in the woods hadn't been lying. There were walls. It had been a safe zone, but it wasn't anymore. One door to the gate was hanging off of its hinges, and walkers ambled in and out of the safe zone. The place was overrun.

"Oh God," Carol murmured, her hand moving to her mouth. It was so still, save for the moans and shuffling of the walkers as they weaved in and out of the gates. "There's nothing left." When a few walkers caught sight of their car, they began stumbling toward them. Daryl hit the gas and sped down the road, the other cars quickly following his lead.

About a half-mile down the road, everybody stopped and got out of the car, defeat etched in all of their faces.

"Well, that's that," Glenn muttered, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets.

"We're almost out of gas," Carol murmured. "We could find more, but then where would we go?" Daryl heard the waver in her voice, and he could tell she was fighting back tears. He chewed his lip in thought, as everybody else spoke around him.

"We could stay," Carl offered. "I mean, we fought into the prison."

"There's more walkers here than at the prison. We don't have the kind of ammo we used to have," Rick pointed out.

"We could fight our way in," Daryl replied, finger tapping against the trigger of his crossbow. "We run out of ammo, we go back to basics. Knives, boots, anything heavy that can bash in walker brains." Carol glanced at him, saw the fire in his eyes. Since the attack at the hotel and Carol's close call with that walker, he'd gotten very protective and a little bit creative when it came to putting down walkers. The more she considered this, the more she felt like he carried himself as if he had a new purpose in life.

"Then what?" Maggie wondered. "We sit and wait for somebody else to come in and try and take it from us?" Wisps of sadness blew over her face like a fresh breeze.

"No. We fortify the walls, we get more ammo, and if anybody comes tryin' to take what we got, we blow 'em the fuck away." Daryl's voice had a low growl to it. "We take in those who need takin' in, we put down those that don't wanna share." Everybody looked at Daryl with a little bit of surprise. Impending fatherhood had brought out a different side in him.

"He's right," Carol murmured. "We can make it work. We have to fight for it, but what haven't we had to fight for? We can have the kind of life we had at the farm. We can help people like we did at the prison. But we aren't going to let it go, not without a fight. We _can_ do this."

"We do this, we're gonna need a hell of a lot more ammo," Michonne murmured, eyeing the herd of walkers heading down the road.

"We'll get more ammo," Daryl insisted, glancing at Rick. "You in?" Rick looked around at the group, at the people he now called family. He looked at his son, standing strong and sure holding baby Judith in his arms. He looked at Michonne, seeing an encouraging, if not adventurous smile starting on her lips, and he looked at Carol and Daryl, standing together, ready to fight whatever came at them for the sake of their unborn child.

"Alright," Rick said with a nod. "We find more ammo, more weapons, I'm in."

"Alright," Daryl said with a grunt. "Let's get started. We got a lot of work to do."

"Oh my God," Carol groaned, as Daryl's fingers dug deep into her shoulders. "Right there. Yeah. Oh…that's perfect." She sighed and leaned forward, her head dipping down, and she gasped softly as his fingers pressed harder into her shoulder blades. "God, you're getting better at this." Daryl smirked from behind her. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Don't take a rocket scientist to know how to give a good shoulder rub," he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the back of her neck. "That better?"

"Much," she whispered as his arms encircled her, and she leaned her back against his chest in the bed. He situated himself so she was seated between his legs, and he leaned back against the headboard of the rickety old bed.

They'd found an old house to stay in for the night, and it had become an unspoken rule that Carol and Daryl got the bed. Nobody was going to make a pregnant woman sleep on the floor. And Carol wasn't going to argue tonight, because every muscle in her body ached, and her shoulders were particularly sore from all the hauling of ammo and firearms they'd done after gathering supplies at a hunting shop. There was still a lot left, despite having been ransacked before by other survivors. They cleared out most of it, loaded what they could into all of the vehicles, and by the time the sun went down, everybody was just looking for a place to sleep.

Daryl rubbed her belly as they sat together on the bed, and she yawned in his arms.

"You oughta sleep," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.

"My body's exhausted, but my mind isn't. I just can't stop thinking about tomorrow."

"We'll be alright. We'll make it."

"You sound awfully confident."

"Somethin' good's gotta happen. The farm burned to hell, the prison too. We had a good thing going at the house until everybody started showin' up, and we ran outta room. This place looks strong. We get rid of the walkers, we'll be set. We can live like we did at the prison, only it looks like they got actual houses."

"Yeah," Carol said softly. "But I can't stop thinking about…" She sighed heavily.

"What is it?"

"The baby," she admitted. "I know…I know we've been trying to think positive, but the closer I get to the end, the more I worry. I'm scared that something will happen, and…"

"Bob's gonna be there. Maggie, too."

"I know," Carol said with a little nod and sighed, deciding to lighten the mood for his sake and for her own. "I guess Rick will be there to pick you up off the floor when you faint." Daryl snorted.

"Who's gonna faint?" he asked, kissing her neck. She laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"We'll see," she said with a grin, leaning back, turning her head and capturing his lips with her own. As his lips brushed over hers, he felt something curious against his fingertips. He froze, mid-kiss, and Carol pulled back with a knowing look in her eye. "You felt that, didn't you?"

"Yeah…" he said slowly, his eyes peering down over her shoulder and to her belly, where his hands still rested. "Was that…"

"Yes," she said with a grin. "You felt the baby." Daryl's lips parted a little, and he sat very still, raising her shirt up to place his fingers against her bare stomach. He waited, and Carol bit her lip to keep from giggling at the amazed look on his face. When his brows went up in surprise, she couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"Whoa," he murmured. "That feels…wow." He felt the tiniest series of bumps against his hands, and he couldn't believe how amazing it felt to feel his child—_their _child—moving inside of Carol, kicking and strong. "Does it hurt?"

"No," she said soflty. "It might later in the pregnancy, when there isn't much room for him to move around."

"Him?" Daryl asked quietly.

"Or _her_," she allowed. She turned in his arms, and he lay back against the pillow, pulling her close. "Do you want a girl?"

"I don't care," he said with a shrug. "Either's fine, so long as she looks like her mama." Carol laughed.

"Oh,_ no_, you don't care," she teased, craning her neck up and kissing him again. "We may have a Daryl Dixon Junior on our hands."

"I'm sorry," he laughed. She swatted his arm.

"I bet you were adorable as a boy," she said dreamily, resting her head on his chest.

"I was a pain in the ass," he muttered. Carol laughed and closed her eyes, relishing the feel of her child still kicking away in her belly. "Think I could handle a girl better."

"Why's that?"

"Dunno," he murmured. "I mean, look at Carl. That kid was a serious pain in the ass for a while."

"Don't be mean," Carol grinned. "I was a pain in the ass, too."

"Was?" he teased, nibbling her ear. She elbowed him gently in the side, and he coughed. "Yeah, if she's as stubborn and strong as her mama, I'd be alright with that."

"Well, then I suppose I could handle a Daryl Jr. just fine then. Just gotta keep him in line and make sure he doesn't get too wild."

"You tryin' to say somethin' 'bout me?" Daryl asked, his hand moving up to graze over her breast.

"Oh, maybe, if you keep going." She sighed softly as his lips brushed over her neck, and his hand moved up her shirt to graze over her breast. "Yeah, I think I'm saying something. Maybe you better keep me quiet." She bit the tip of her tongue, grinning up at him, and he brought his lips down on hers in a claiming kiss, thankful that she was his, and he was hers.

They all took turns peering through the binoculars, checking out the place that had once been a safe zone. It appeared to be a two block area that was closed off with man made walls and two gates. There appeared to be several houses, a small building that was probably once a church, and even a couple of stores. From where they stood at the top of the hill, the walkers looked like little ants invading the small town like a cancer.

"We get in that watch tower and get the gate closed off, we can start pickin' 'em off one at a time like we did at he prison," Daryl offered. "We close the gate, least we won't have to worry about more gettin' in."

"We're still going to have to clear the houses," Michonne pointed out.

"We've got firepower now," Carol pointed out. "We can make it work. We can get in. Somebody's going to have to make a run for the tower, and when the rest of us will cover them until they get to the top safely.

"I can do it," Glenn offered.

"_No_," Maggie insisted. "You don't have to be the one to make the suicide runs every time." Her voice was low and tense as she spoke.

"I'll be fine. I'm the fastest one here."

"I'll do it," Carl offered.

"Carl," Rick warned, hesitantly, "you cover Glenn."

"No, Dad. I can do it. I'm quick, and I can do this. Maggie's right. Glenn shouldn't be stuck doing this stuff all the time. I can do it." Rick could see he wasn't going to talk his son out of anything at this point, so he finally conceded, but he wasn't happy about it.

Rick shoved a backup gun in Carl's hand, and the boy stuffed it in the waist of his pants.

"A'right," Daryl murmured, "Carl goes in first, we cover him. Soon as he hits the top of the tower, we open fire and blow those fuckers to hell where they belong. We'll worry about the cars later. We can bring 'em in one at a time if we have to. Just gotta fix that gate."

"Everybody got extra ammo?" Rick asked, checking his own supply. When everybody was satisfied that they had enough ammo to get them through the gate, they all piled into the cars and started down the hill toward the broken gate. Carol shifted nervously in the seat of the pickup, and Daryl chewed his lip, trying to focus.

"Stay behind me, alright?" She started to speak, but he cut her off. "I know you can handle yourself, but I wanna know you're safe." Carol nodded.

"Alright," she assured him. "I'll stay close." She reached for his hand, and they held onto one another, both feeling trembles in the other's hands. This was it. This was what they'd travelled so far for, and they weren't going to give up until they could call it home.

Carl had made it successfully to the watch tower, and by the time he'd make it up safely, there was an array of walkers lying still on the ground with gunshot wounds still smoking from their foreheads and temples. That was only the tip of the iceberg though. There were still dozens upon dozens that were going to need to be put down.

When Carl gave a holler that he was up safely, the group piled through the broken gate door one by one, taking down walkers that got too close as they did so. Rick, Daryl and Carol were the last through the gate, and Carol started popping off rounds as soon as she was inside, and Rick and Daryl began working quickly to try to prop the gate back up on its hinges.

"Shit, this fucker's heavy," Daryl grunted, putting all his weight into lifting with Rick. Bob covered Tyreese as he rushed over to help Daryl and Rick with the door. The three of them were abel to lift it enough to get it set back in its hinges, and a couple tightening of the screws was all it needed. They successfully closed the gate, blocking out the rest of the walkers from getting in.

Gunshots rang out left and right, and bodies thudded simultaneously. Rick, Daryl and Tyreese drew their guns, putting bullets into the heads of the closest walkers. Daryl kept an eye on Carol, whose aim was sure and accurate, and he watched her reload without even fumbling. She could definitely take care of herself.

Michonne, with Judith strapped on her back, climbed up into the tower to help Carl pop off walkers in the distance.

Rick and Tyreese spread out, taking on a group of walkers to the left, while Carol, Daryl and Bob went off to the right. Maggie and Glenn stood at the gate, making certain it wouldn't give way and putting down the walkers that swarmed in from the sides.

Rick had strayed a bit from Tyreese, working on putting down a group of walkers coming from the side of one of the houses. Tyreese was just putting down one walker, when he felt a hand on his arm, followed by fierce pressure. He screamed out, turning his head just in time to see a walker's rotten jaw coming toward him. He called out and flung himself back, trying to get out of the grasp of the walker, and he lost his footing, falling back, his finger slipping on the trigger.

Daryl heard the sharp cry right behind him, and he turned, as if in slow motion, to see the color drain from Carol's face and the blood staining her shirt. Her kneels buckled, and she began to fall, her body going limp.

Daryl ran to her, reaching out, pulling her into his arms as she collapsed against him, her blood flowing out onto him. She looked up into his face, seeing the fear and the shock as his mouth fell open, and his eyes filled with tears. And then everything went black.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Carol's eyes fluttered open, and at first, she didn't feel any pain. It wasn't until her gaze focused on the candle on a small table near the bed that she cried out as pain tore through her shoulder like the bullet she'd taken.

"Daryl!" she cried out, feeling a hand squeeze hers. She turned her head to see Daryl sitting at her bedside, worry creasing his brow as she watched her.

"Shh, I'm here," he murmured. "You got shot."

"I feel like it," she whimpered. She gritted her teeth as she tried to sit up, and he pressed on her unwounded shoulder, easing her back down onto the mattress.

"Take it easy. You lost a lot of blood."

"The baby," she gasped, clutching her stomach with her good arm. She could feel the baby moving inside of her, and that eased her worries a little, but not completely.

"Bullet went clean through. Bob got you stitched up. Said you need rest, and the baby should be ok." Carol felt the tears stinging her eyes, and he leaned forward, resting his head on her good shoulder for a moment before moving to kiss her forehead. "I thought...Jesus, Carol, I thought you were dead." Carol reached up and gently cupped his cheek with her hand.

"I'm still here," she murmured. "Nine lives, remember?" Daryl choked back what sounded like a sob and ran his hand over his face, brushing the hair out of his eyes. "What happened?"

"Tyreese got taken down by a walker. His finger slipped on the trigger."

"Oh God," she murmured, eyes widening. "Is he dead?"

"He's alright. Little shaken up, kinda banged up. Probably feels like shit." Carol sighed and shook her head.

"What is this place?" She looked around, noticing what looked like an eyechart on the wall and one of those scales usually found in a doctor's office.

"Think they were usin' this as a clinic," he said quietly. "Found lots of medicine and supplies. Must have got taken by surprise. They didn't even try to pack nothin'."

"Where is everybody?" she asked, watching as Daryl leaned over to pick up a bottle of water off the table.

"Drink this," he murmured, lifting it to her lips. She took a few thirsty gulps before settling back down against the bed.

"Daryl? Where is everybody?"

"They're out finishin' what we started," he replied. Carol could hear gunfire every once in a while, and she figured that must have been the others finishing off what was left of the walkers that had gotten inside. Carol groaned and leaned back against the bed.

"I can talk to Bob 'bout gettin' you somethin' for the pain."

"No," Carol insisted. "I don't want to take anything that could hurt the baby. I'm fine." Daryl stared down at her.

"You gotta be hurtin'."

"Pain just means you're alive, right?" she asked, trying for a hopeful half-smile but wincing in pain instead. She put her hand on her belly, and Daryl put his hand over hers, linking their fingers together. "This kid's been through so much already, and he's not even born yet." She smiled sadly. "It's kind of strange. Our baby and Judith…they'll never know what it was like before. All they'll ever know is this." She felt a momentary sense of panic surge through her body. He felt her tense, and he squeezed her hand.

"We're gonna make it, Carol. Our baby's gonna make it. We just gotta keep fighting. Who knows? Maybe one day, we won't have to fight anymore." Carol smiled a little at the way he tried to sound hopeful when there was very likely no hope to be had.

"Thank you," she whispered. He stroked her cheek and leaned down to kiss her softly.

Daryl had made sure Carol had eaten something before she'd fallen back to sleep, and when he was certain she was out for the night, he slipped out of the little room and ran right into Tyreese as he closed the door.

"The hell you doin'?" Daryl asked, eyeing him. "Where's Rick?"

"They're out clearing houses," Tyreese murmured, staring at the large blood stain on Daryl's shirt. "She ok?"

"You care?" Daryl eyed him. He knew Tyreese had been through all kinds of shit, but that didn't mean he wanted him lurking around when Carol was in the state she currently was in, especially after what he'd said to her at the firehouse.

"It's my fault," Tyreese explained. "I shot her, Daryl. _I_ did that."

"She knows it was an accident." Daryl watched him for a moment and continued. "She'll be alright. Bullet went right through."

"The baby ok?"

"Baby's fine," Daryl responded shortly. "You done?"

"Daryl, I know what I said to Carol after she told me. I was angry. I wanted to blame somebody, and she gave me someone to blame. Then with Sasha…"

"Carol did what had to be done."

"I know that!" Tyreese yelled. Daryl looked toward the door to Carol's room and then back at Tyreese with narrowed-eyes. Tyreese took a breath and lowered his voice. "I know." He sat down on a chair in the hall and removed the knit cap from his head. "My sister was gonna turn. She was gonna be one of them. And the second I saw her shaking in Carol's arms, I thought of Karen and how sick she was. And I…" He looked up at Daryl. "I need to talk to Carol."

"She needs to sleep."

"Daryl…"

"You ain't goin' in there and upsettin' her. She needs to rest. Baby needs her to rest." He saw the defeated look in Tyreese's eyes, and he softened a little. "Look, maybe tomorrow, man. Just not now." Tyreese finally nodded in understanding and walked away. Daryl slid down the wall and sat down on the floor, closing his eyes and feeling the weight of the night's events fall over him like a wet blanket. He groaned, his body exhausted and aching, but he hated the idea of resting with Carol hurt in the next room. He wondered for a moment if there would ever be a day when he felt completely safe for her—or himself—again.

Daryl woke to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He'd fallen asleep sitting in the hallway with his back against the wall, and as he opened his eyes, realizing it was morning and the sun was out, he blinked a few times and focused his gaze on Rick's face in front of him.

"How's she doin'?" Rick asked, nodding toward the room Carol was in.

"I think she's still sleepin'," Daryl murmured, stretching and standing up. Rick straightened, and he ran his fingers through his hair. The sheriff's eyes were a bit red, and he had dark circles under them. "Shit, I guess I fell asleep. Sorry. I shoulda been out there helpin'."

"It's alright," Rick said with a wave of his hand. "You had enough to worry about. We got it under control."

"What's the damage?"

"Bob, Tyreese and Glenn are loading bodies up in the pickup and taking them outside the gates. Michonne and Maggie went out and got all the cars pulled into the gates. We've swept most of the houses and cleared 'em."

"How many were there? Walkers, I mean," Daryl asked, peering out a window at the end of the hall, seeing Bob and Tyreese with bandanas over their mouths and noses as Glenn backed the truck up and got back out to help load more bodies.

"Hundred or so. Seemed like more at the time. We're safe for now. Just keep your weapons close in case we missed one."

"Sure," Daryl said with a nod. Rick started down the hall, but Daryl called out again. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want Carol sleepin' in here another night."

"There's plenty of places to pick from, Daryl. Whoever was here before is gone now. If they ain't dead, I'm sure they ain't comin' back. This place is ours now."

"We're gonna be ok, though, right?" Rick saw the exhaustion in his friend's eyes, and he moved to put his hand on his shoulder. "Carol and the baby are gonna be fine. We made it this far. We can't lose another round."

"Michonne and I are gonna take a drive around the fences in a bit, make sure there's no breaches. Nothin' else is gettin' in here without our say so." He watched Daryl chew his lip, and he gave him a half-smile. "Don't worry. I remember what it's like. It's gonna be fine."

"What what's like?"

"Becoming a dad. Worrying about somebody else, being responsible for somebody else. It's terrifying, but I can promise you, Daryl, it's worth all the worrying in the end. We had walls at the prison. We had a system. But we didn't fight hard enough. I blame myself for that, but we got more to lose now than we ever did before. We ain't givin' up." At that moment, Carl came walking in with Judith.

"Dad? Oh, hey Daryl." Carl looked back and forth between his father and Daryl, worrying for a moment. "Carol's ok?"

"She's gonna be fine," Daryl said with a nod. "Just needs her rest. She got lucky."

"Glad to hear it," Carl said quietly. "We need her." Daryl gave him a little nod, and he nodded back. Carl turned his attention back to his dad. "Judy's out of diapers." He made a face and handed the fussy baby to Rick. Rick gave his son a look, and the boy gave him a sheepish smile. "Hey, she's your kid."

"She's your sister."

"Dad trumps brother."

"Yeah," Rick muttered. "Get outta here, I'll take care of it."

"Cool, thanks!" Carl hurried off before Rick changed his mind, and the sheriff bounced the baby on his hip.

"I gotta take care of this. Give Carol my best, alright?"

"Yeah," Daryl murmured, watching the way Judith lay her head on Rick's shoulder as he soothed her by rubbing her back. He wondered how the hell he was going to do this, how he was going to be somebody's dad and not completely fuck up the way his old man had. He watched Rick walk away and waited for the footsteps to recede before he turned and let himself back into Carol's room.

She was still sleeping, her hand gently resting over her stomach. He sat down next to her bed and felt a rush of relief to see that she wasn't still bleeding. Her bandages hadn't soaked through, so Daryl took that as a good sign.

She moaned softly in her sleep, her brow furrowing through her discomfort, and he gently took her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. She slowly opened her eyes at the feeling of his calloused fingers against hers, and she gave him a little smile when she saw him.

"Morning," she murmured.

"Mornin'," he greeted her, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. She bit her lip a little as her smile brightened. "How ya feelin'?"

"My shoulder hurts, but I'm alive. That's really all that counts, right?" Daryl gave her hand another kiss. "You sleep here?"

"Fell asleep in the hall," he chuckled. "Rick just woke me up."

"What's going on? Is everyone ok?"

"Yeah. Relax. It's all under control. We're safe."

"Safe?" she asked, sighing and leaning her head back against the pillow.

"Safe for now. I think we finally found walls we can keep." He put his hand against her belly and stroked her there. She closed her eyes and yawned, feeling the pull in her stitches when she moved. She grimaced. "You ok?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna be fine," she assured him, stroking his cheek. "Thank you for being here when I woke up."

"I'll be there when you wake every mornin' for the rest of my life if I can help it." She felt tears sting her eyes.

"Daryl Dixon, I think you're turning out to be a true romantic."

"Pfft, stop," he muttered before giving her a little grin. "You hungry?"

"_Starving_," she insisted, feeling her stomach grumble at the thought of food.

"I'll see what I can find, alright? Don't go nowhere."

"I'll try to stay put," she assured him. A knock at the door startled them both, and they shared a look before Daryl got up and opened it. Michonne stood there with a pack draped over her arm, and Carol smiled at the sight of her friend.

"Thought I'd stop by and see how she's doing," Michonne said with a weak smile, a little scuffed up and bruised from the events of the previous night.

"Come in," Carol called over, motioning Michonne to have a seat where Daryl had just been sitting.

"Guess I'll go find breakfast," Daryl said with a shrug. "Anything you want me to look for?"

"Ooh, pancakes. Or waffles," Carol teased, knowing it would be next to impossible to find those ingredients at this point. "Oh, and bacon!"

"You find bacon, you slide some of that my way," Michonne laughed. Daryl rolled his eyes at the two of them, shaking his head as the girls laughed together as he left.

"You alright?" Carol asked, noticing the cuts on Michonne's arms.

"Yeah, battle scars, huh?" she asked. "Speaking of…" She nodded toward Carol's bandaged shoulder, "welcome to the badass scar club."

"Oh, this?" Carol asked. "Well, I've already got more than my share of scars."

"Don't we all?" Michonne asked, taking a seat. They sat quietly together for a few moments. "I have a good feeling about this place."

"Yeah?" Carol asked.

"Yeah. I guess after all we've been through, this place really seems like it could work. I mean, the generators are out of gas, so there's no electricity like we were hoping for. We'll have to go on runs for food and supplies from time to time, but Carol, there's potential. Rick's already talking about planting crops. The people that were here before us have a huge supply of crop seeds. We could make this work. And the walls are more secure than the fences at the prison and the fences at Woodbury put together. These people knew what they were doing when they set this place up."

"That's a relief," Carol murmured, sitting up just a little. Michonne helped her prop herself up with a pillow behind her back. "Thanks."

"Saw Tyreese leave last night. What'd he want?"

"Tyreese was here? That's the first I'm hearing about it." Carol raised her eyebrows and made a mental note to ask Daryl what had happened while she was unconscious.

"Ah, well, I guess that's a question better saved for Daryl, huh?" Michonne guessed. Carol nodded, and Michonne stood up.

"Hate to cut our visit short, but Rick needs me to help him check the perimeter."

"I'll bet," Carol said with a grin.

"Oh, somebody's not letting a little gunshot wound get her down." Michonne laughed and shook her head. "Rick's just a friend."

"Yeah, that's what I told myself about Daryl for nearly two years. He's just a friend." She could tell Michonne wasn't entirely ready for that kind of discussion about Rick yet, so she decided to drop it. "Thanks for stopping by, Michonne."

"Hey, that's what friends are for. Get some rest." She patted Carol's hand and got up to leave. Daryl came walking back in with a box of cereal.

"Well, it ain't bacon or waffles, but it's food." Michonne excused herself and left the two of them alone. Carol took the cereal box into her hands, opened the plastic bag inside and started munching on semi-stale cereal. Even the fresh-seal bags couldn't withstand the test of time in the apocalypse.

"So," Carol said quietly, "Michonne tells me Tyreese was here last night." Daryl sat down next to her.

"Yeah, and I sent him away."

"What'd he want?"

"I dunno. Said he wanted to talk to you. You were sleepin', and I didn't wanna wake you."

"Daryl…"

"You were just shot, Carol. I didn't want him comin' in and upsettin' ya."

"I'm not completely helpless, as bad as I might look," she pointed out. "If he comes back, don't send him away."

"Well, we ain't stayin' here much longer. We got a lot to do today. We gotta go house huntin'."

"House hunting?" she asked with a laugh.

"We gotta find our place."

"Our own place? No roommates?"

"Unless you wanna bunk with Rick and Bob." He saw her make a face. "Then I guess we'll be lookin' for our own place. Got plenty to choose from. Rent's cheap." Carol smiled at that, and she sat up a little. "Well, help me get out of this bed, and we'll get started. I do have one requirement. It's a necessity."

"What's that?" Daryl asked.

"We need a treehouse." Daryl threw her a glance and couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"For the baby, right?"

"Um…sure," she laughed. "But, you know, he won't be old enough to use it for a long, _long _time, and we couldn't let it go to waste." He leaned in, kissing her softly, and she sighed against his lips, wishing she was feeling good enough to let it go further than that. But she was going to need a little time.

"Well, in that case, I'll build one for ya if I have to." Carol laughed at the thought of Daryl up in a tree trying to put together a tree house, but her heart swelled, and for the first time in a while, she truly felt as if everything was going to get better from here on out.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

There were so many houses to choose from. Maggie and Glenn had chosen one on the corner, a pretty, white, one-story home with a white-picket fence. Maggie had fallen in love with it as soon as she'd seen it, and they were already checking it out and fixing what needed fixed. Bob and Tyreese were going to share, for the time being, considering most of the houses were too big for one person, and nobody really wanted to be alone at this point.

The house next to Glenn and Maggie's had gotten Michonne's attention right away. It was a another small home, but it was just perfect for her. There were two bedrooms, and while it was a little big for one person, she didn't mind. She wanted to have a little extra space to stretch out. Carl had asked her to stay with him and Rick, but she'd politely declined. Despite whatever this relationship was that was budding between her and Rick, she wasn't exactly sure moving in together permanently was the right thing for now. She wanted him to have time with his kids first. Whatever was meant to be would happen in time.

Carol had gasped at the sight of the house Daryl had been interested in. It was a two-story home, light-blue in color, and it had a big yard that was fenced all around.

"Took some searchin'," he said quietly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and they walked through the gate and toward the back of the yard. "Didn't find a tree house, but there's plenty of trees." Carol grinned at that, and she nodded her head.

"It's perfect, Daryl."

"Inside's pretty nice. You wanna check it out? It's got a nursery and everything. Don't know how you feel 'bout…" She turned and kissed him softly.

"I don't care what it looks like," she whispered, stroking his cheek. "It's our home, so I love it."

"C'mon," Daryl urged, pulling her toward the front of the house. "Let's get you in and get you settled. Bob said he'd come by and check your stitches later."

"Great," Carol muttered. "More poking and prodding. I take it Tyreese will try to stop by, too." She saw Daryl freeze. "Yeah, I know he stopped by. Michonne told me." Daryl grunted and kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't wanna upset ya."

"I'm not upset," Carol murmured. "I would like to speak with Tyreese though. I think we have a lot to talk about. This group is it, Daryl. We're what's left, and we have to put the past behind us." Daryl gave her a nod to let her know he understood, and he held onto her as they made their way up the steps of their new home.

Carol was resting at home after Bob had come by to check her stitches and change her bandages. Tyreese hadn't shown any sign of heading over, so when Carol fell asleep, Daryl made his way outside and met up with Rick at the gate.

They worked together, reinforcing the gate, and the two of them found Michonne and did another check of the perimeter. Everybody was a little uneasy, straddling a thin line between celebrating their newfound safe place and waiting for the other shoe to drop. They'd had too many dangling carrots waved in front of them. Just when hope had been in sight, it would get pulled cruelly pulled away. They seemed to be anticipating that next pull of the carrot string.

Sometime around noon, they all went their separate ways to wash up. It was one of the nicest days they'd had in a while, weather-wise. There was still a cold bite to the air, but spring was just around the corner now, and Maggie was chattering about planting times and how there was a great field down the block that would be perfect for growing crops.

Just as they were finishing their break, Daryl turned and saw a figure heading up the step of his and Carol's house. It took half a second for him to realize it was Tyreese, and he got up quickly. Without a word, he left the group and hurried after him, hoping to stay close in case Carol needed him.

"Come in," Carol called as a knock came to her door. She'd heard the front door open, and since whoever it was was knocking, she knew it wasn't a walker, and it certainly wasn't Daryl. When the door opened, she was a little surprised to see Tyreese standing there, his hat in his hand. "Tyreese?" She sat up in the bed a little, her heart racing, uncertain of what he might say. She put her hands over her belly gently, not certain if she was gearing up to go into protective mama mode or what. She just felt the need to brace herself. Whatever hate he had for her, she figured, was his right to carry, because she had killed someone he'd loved, and that was all there was to it.

"I don't know why I'm here, to be honest," he began, sitting down on a chair near the door, eyeing Carol from across the room. "I wanted to apologize for last night."

"That was an accident," she said quietly.

"Let me get this out," he said a little gruffly. Carol flinched. "I said some things to you, and I…look, I can't forget what happened to Karen. I found her, and she was just…" He closed his eyes and willed the memory to go away. "All I could see when I closed my eyes was her on the ground, all burnt up. And you were there, telling me how sorry you were, and you knew. You did it."

Carol swallowed a lump in her throat.

"I hated you. I wanted it to be you instead. I wanted you dead," he admitted. "But I wanted you to live with what you did. I thought it would be better that way." He looked away when he saw the tears in her eyes. "Now all I hear at night is Sasha screaming. I see her bleeding. I see you trying to help her. You pulled the trigger." He looked back up at her. "I get it now. Losing my sister was…it was a pain I wasn't ready for. You stopped her pain. You ended it for her. It was like that for Karen? For David?" Carol nodded slowly.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I didn't…it wasn't an easy choice, Tyreese. I hope you know that. I did what I had to do, because I thought it was the best thing for the group. I'm sorry you lost someone. And I'm sorry about Sasha." She swallowed hard.

"We made it," Tyreese said quietly, standing up and moving to look out the window. "We're here. That means we get to move on, right?"

"I think so," Carol said softly, her voice trembling. "I hope so."

"I need to," Tyreese said quietly. He turned to face her again. "I'll never forget. I can't. I have to remember…for Karen." She nodded slowly in understanding. "And you won't forget either. It's with you now. You carry it."

"Yeah," she murmured.

"But I forgive you," he breathed, feeling a weight lifting as he spoke. Carol looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. "I forgive you, 'cause I can't move on carrying all this anger. I can't. You ended it for Karen. You ended it for Sasha. You took away her pain. You stopped her from…from becoming one of them. For that…I have to thank you, because you did what I couldn't do."

Honestly, Carol didn't know how to respond or react. She really couldn't say anything. There was nothing she could do to ease Tyreese's pain over losing Karen, but to realize that he was grateful for her for putting Sasha down when he couldn't was something she could hold onto. As difficult as this world was, it was still a world where every choice had the power to affect not just the person making that choice but everybody else involved as well.

Tyreese said nothing else. He just turned and walked out the door, leaving Carol alone to with her thoughts. And it wasn't long before she heard the familiar sound of Daryl's boots on the floorboards.

"How much did you hear?" she asked as he walked through the door.

"Pretty much all of it," he muttered. "You ok?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think so. I think I understand Tyreese a little better now, and hopefully he understands me a little better, too. I don't think we'll be best friends or anything like that, but I don't think we have anything to worry about anymore." Daryl sat down next to Carol on the bed and pulled his arm around her.

"We can all move on, huh?" he murmured. She leaned her head on his shoulder and nodded.

"Yeah. I think we can." She looked up at him, and he leaned down to kiss her gently. Minding her injured shoulder, he lay back against the mattress, pulling his arms around her and holding her close. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, his fingers playing over her stomach, feeling his child kicking inside of her, and he felt, for the first time in his entire life, completely at peace and filled with a longing hope for tomorrow.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Daryl Dixon walked through the fields where stalks of corn were up to his chest. Carl Grimes was running through one of the rows chasing after his baby sister, who had found that running through the corn stalks was her new favorite activity, aside from begging Michonne to play dollies with her. "Pletty peese" was Judith's new favorite thing to say, because every time she said it to any one of her extended family, they just couldn't resist her adorableness. And Michonne especially couldn't resist her when she added a 'pletty peese, mama' to her begging. That child knew exactly how to steal and melt her heart at the same time.

"Judy, get back here, you little monster," Carl laughed, as the toddler shrieked and ran faster, smacking right into Daryl's leg.

"Uh-oh!" Judith exclaimed, falling back on her bottom.

"Hey Asskicker," he laughed, picking the girl up and putting her up on his shoulders. She clapped her hands and laughed happily.

"Athkicker," she giggled.

"Daryl," Carl groaned. "Dad told you to stop calling her that. You should've heard her repeating something you said last week at the dinner table last night. I thought Michonne was gonna hyperventilate, she was laughing so hard."

"Your dad didn't laugh?"

"Not so much," Carl replied

"Shit," Daryl muttered.

"Thit!" Judith exclaimed gleefully. Carl rolled his eyes, and Daryl shrugged.

"Well, it ain't like I'm the only person she's heard say it," he muttered. "Here, take the kid." Daryl lifted Judith off of his shoulders and handed her back down to her brother. "You seen Carol?"

"Uh, yeah, she was taking stock of supplies with Michonne last I saw."

"She's on her feet again?" Daryl asked. That woman just wouldn't quit. She was due any second, and she was still working. He tried to get her to prop her feet up for at least a couple hours every day, but she insisted she felt fine. She was stubborn as ever, and given his own stubbornness, he was wondering if their own kid would be ten times as bad and might never decide to be born. Carol figured she was at least a week over due, and everybody was kind of waiting on pins and needles. Every little ache or pain she had started a cacophony of gasps and chairs scraping over floorboards as everybody scrambled to help her.

Daryl took off toward the store room, which was basically just the back room of the clinic they'd taken Carol to that first night. Bob was sweeping off the front porch, having just stocked the latest supply run's haul of medicines. He'd been studying medical texts that the last group had left, and that was basically all that he could do to prepare himself. The last four months had yet to see any newcomers, but they still kept someone on watch every day, making sure to look for other survivors, whether they be threats or people in need of refuge.

"Carol in there?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah. She's with Michonne. Oh, hey! One of the calves dropped this morning. I helped deliver it."

"Yeah? It live?"

"Yeah. It's out in the east field."

"Great," Daryl said, eyeing the medic.

"I'm just saying, I feel a little more comfortable with helping with the delivery now." Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"You comparing Carol to one of our cows?"

"What?" Bob asked, his face paling. "No! No, I was just…" He gripped the broom handle tightly, his knuckles turning white. "I'm not…" Daryl smirked and patted Bob's shoulder.

"Relax, man. It's cool. I appreciate ya doin' what ya can to help her. I know she's gettin' nervous."

"It'll be alright. Carol's healthy. Everything's going to be fine." Daryl nodded, trying to remain positive. Lori had been healthy, too, and she hadn't survived. And Carol was late, which meant that the baby was getting bigger each day. The more he thought about it, the more that nervous panic seeped out of his pores in a cold sweat.

Daryl turned quickly and walked into the clinic, finding Carol standing just inside the door, one hand on her back, the other gripping a bottle of water so tightly that the water spouted out like a fountain just as Daryl walked through. Her eyes met his, and the bottle clattered to the floor, the plastic crackling as it rolled.

"Carol?"

"Oh God," she groaned, leaning forward. Michonne came walking out of the back room, her eyes wide.

"What happened?" She looked at the floor. "Did…"

"No, my water didn't break," Carol assured her. "I'm just having a contraction." Daryl helped Carol down into a chair, and he put his hands on her stomach, now quite prominent, and he saw the pain etched in her face as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

"Bob! Get in here!" Daryl hollered. Bob came rushing in.

"What happened?"

"Carol's havin' contractions," Daryl said with a grunt. "Help me get her over to the bed." Carol put an arm around each guy's necks, and they helped her get over to the bed.

"I don't remember it hurting this bad," Carol groaned, clutching her belly. Fear and worry filled Daryl's face, and Michonne patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, it really does hurt that bad. She's ok, Daryl," Michonne offered.

"Shit," Carol groaned, another contraction hitting her fast. "It didn't happen like this with Sophia." Tears filled her eyes. "It's too fast."

"Just breathe, Carol. Take a deep breath. It's gonna be ok," Bob assured her. "You're gonna have to help me out here, ok? I've never done this before. _You_ have. You've got this, Carol, alright? I'm just here in case you need me." Carol nodded, biting her lip as she cried out in pain again. She gripped Daryl's hand tightly, and he and Bob shared a tense look before turning their attention back to Carol and her cries of agnoy.

"God, you're amazing," Daryl murmured, stroking Carol's damp hair as he sat in the chair next to her bed at the clinic. "I ain't never seen nothin' like that."

"And, God willing, you never will again," she said with a grin. "I don't think I could ever go through that again." She smiled tiredly at him as he held the tiny bundle in his arms. He stared down in amazement at this tiny creature he and Carol and created together. "Thank you for being here, Daryl."

"You kiddin'? I told ya I wasn't leavin' you. I meant it."

"You helped me so much. When the pain got too bad, I just looked at you, and I knew it was all worth it." Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she laughed a little, brushing them away. "You're going to have to get used to me being a little more weepy than usual for a while."

"Ah, I can take it," he said with a shrug. "We need to find a name for this one, though."

"Yeah, I'm kind of at a loss," Carol laughed. "I thought I'd know as soon as the baby came out, but I'm not sure…I'm not sure if he looks like a Michael or a Robert or a Daryl Jr." Daryl eyed her.

"Should give 'im his own name," Daryl said thoughtfully, staring down at his newborn son. "It's all you. I only had girls names picked out," he chuckled.

"You're not disappointed?"

"You kiddin'?" he asked, kissing the top of the baby's head. "He's awesome." Carol smiled and reached out, stroking the baby's soft, bald head.

"To look at his daddy, you'd think he'd have a lot more hair," she teased.

"Pfft. Stop," he whispered. Carol grinned again. "We could just name him 'Lil Asskicker the Second and be done with it, ya know?"

"Oh yeah," Carol laughed. Asskicker Dixon. That's a pretty macho name."

"Hell yeah," Daryl said with a lopsided grin and a chuckle.

"What about Samuel?" she asked, watching Daryl tilt his head to the side in thought.

"Sam Dixon. It's a good name. Strong." He looked down at the baby. "You like that, Sammy? Huh?" The baby grunted in his sleep, and Carol grinned.

"Yeah, he's his father's son alright," she laughed. "Samuel. Yeah. That's his name." She smiled and leaned forward, kissing the baby's head tenderly. When she looked up, Daryl was staring down at her with such adoration in his eyes. She grinned at him, and she closed her eyes when he pressed his lips against hers.

"Love you so much," he murmured, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

"Love you too," she whispered, scooting over in the bed and patting the empty place beside her. Daryl carefully moved from the chair to the bed, and Carol curled up against him, falling asleep within minutes. Daryl curled his free arm around her, and he sat there, for the first time holding the woman he loved against him and cradling his child in his other arm, and he knew that everything had happened for a reason. They were the reason. His reason. They were his home.

The End

Author's Note: A big shout out to Rodgerse for the suggestion on the baby name. Well, here we are, at the end, and I'm so thankful for all of you who have taken this journey with me in my first truly big Caryl story. I just love these characters so much, and I can't get enough of writing them and reading about them. I am so thankful to the creators of TWD for giving us such a strong bond between Carol and Daryl on the show. There are so many possibilities, and the dynamic makes them so much fun to write fanfiction about. Thanks again to everyone who hung in there with me and left me such great feedback! I appreciate all of you so much!


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